She was at him in an instant.

“Monsieur!” she cried.  “Yon are come in the very nick of time.  How is His Majesty?”

He said nothing as he walked with her towards the hearth.  She stood, waiting, with her hands clasped, and a face of extraordinary anguish.

“Madame,” he said, “there is very bad news.  I am come on behalf of His Majesty King Louis—­”

“Sh!” she hissed at him, with a quick gesture to where I stood.  He had not observed me.  He straightened himself, as he saw me, and then bowed a little.

The Duchess went on with extraordinary rapidity, still talking in French.

“This is Mr. Mallock,” said she, “Mr. Mallock—­but just now come from His Majesty.  He brings me very grave news.  Monsieur Barillon, you will help us, will you not?  You will help us, surely?”

All her anguish had passed into an extraordinary pleading:  she was as a child begging for life.

“Madame—­” began the ambassador.

“Ah! listen, Monsieur, the king desires a priest.  He is a Catholic at heart, you know.  He hath been a Catholic at heart a long time, ever since—­” she broke off.  “You will help us, will you not, Monsieur?”

He threw out his hands:  but she paid no attention.

“Monsieur, I swear to you that it is so.  Yet what can I do?  I cannot go to him, with decency.  The Queen is there continually, I hear.  The Duke is taken up with a thousand affairs and does not think of it.  Go to the Duke, I entreat you, Monsieur l’Ambassadeur; go to the Duke and tell him what I say.  Mr. Mallock shall go with you.  He is a friend of the Duke.  He will bear me out.  Monsieur, for the love of God lose no time.  Come and see me again; but go now, or it may be too late.  Monsieur, I entreat you.”

She had seized him by the arm as she spoke.  Even his rigid face twitched a little at the violence of her pleading.  I knew well what was in his mind, and how he wondered whether he dared do as she asked him.  God knew what complications might follow!

“Monsieur—­”

He nodded suddenly and sharply.

“Madame,” said he, “I will go.  Mr. Mallock—­”

He bowed to me.

“Ah!  God bless you, sir—­”

He stooped suddenly to her hand, lifted it and kissed it.  I think in that moment something of the compassion of the Saviour Himself fell on him for this poor woman who yet might be forgiven much, for indeed, under all her foolishness and sin, she loved very ardently.  Then he wheeled and went out of the room again; and I followed.  No sound came from the Duchess as we left her there in the half lit twilight.  She was standing with her hands clasped, staring after us as we went out.

* * * * *

He said nothing as we passed again through the anterooms and down the stairs.  Then, as we went on through the next gallery he spoke to me.  His men were a good way behind us, and another in front.