Neapolitan sickness, and that for the future there would be no security even with princesses of the highest birth—­the above-named Maille was compelled to quit the Court in order to go and arrange certain affairs of great importance in Piedmont.  You may be sure that he was very loath to leave his good wife, so young, so delicate, so sprightly, in the midst of the dangers, temptations, snares and pitfalls of this gallant assemblage, which comprised so many handsome fellows, bold as eagles, proud of mein, and as fond of women as the people are partial to Paschal hams.  In this state of intense jealousy everything made him ill at ease; but by dint of much thinking, it occurred to him to make sure of his wife in the manner about to be related.  He invited his good brother-in-arms to come at daybreak on the morning of his departure.  Now directly he heard Lavalliere’s horse in the courtyard, he leaped out of bed, leaving his sweet and fair better-half sleeping that gentle, dreamy, dozing sleep so beloved by dainty ladies and lazy people.  Lavalliere came to him, and the two companions, hidden in the embrasure of the window, greeted each other with a loyal clasp of the hand, and immediately Lavalliere said to Maille—­

“I should have been here last night in answer to thy summons, but I had a love suit on with my lady, who had given me an assignation; I could in no way fail to keep it, but I quitted her at dawn.  Shall I accompany thee?  I have told her of thy departure, she has promised me to remain without any amour; we have made a compact.  If she deceives me—­well a friend is worth more than a mistress!”

“Oh! my good brother” replied the Maille, quite overcome with these words, “I wish to demand of thee a still higher proof of thy brave heart.  Wilt thou take charge of my wife, defend her against all, be her guide, keep her in check and answer to me for the integrity of my head?  Thou canst stay here during my absence, in the green-room, and be my wife’s cavalier.”

Lavalliere knitted his brow and said—­

“It is neither thee nor thy wife that I fear, but evil-minded people, who will take advantage of this to entangle us like skeins of silk.”

“Do not be afraid of me,” replied Maille, clasping Lavalliere to his breast.  “If it be the divine will of the Almighty that I should have the misfortune to be a cuckold, I should be less grieved if it were to your advantage.  But by my faith I should die of grief, for my life is bound up in my good, young, virtuous wife.”

Saying which, he turned away his head, in order that Lavalliere should not perceive the tears in his eyes; but the fine courtier saw this flow of water, and taking the hand of Maille—­

“Brother,” said he to him, “I swear to thee on my honour as a man, that before anyone lays a finger on thy wife, he shall have felt my dagger in the depth of his veins!  And unless I should die, thou shalt find her on thy return, intact in body if not in heart, because thought is beyond the control of gentlemen.”