“But if they commit some absurdity, or leave Paris?”

“They will be arrested.  Orders have been given, and I will answer for their execution.”

Therefore, more tranquil, I sat down in my place.  Scarcely had I got there than the Regent called me back, and said that since they had left the room, he should like to tell the Council what was going to be done with respect to them.  I replied that the only objection to this, their presence, being now removed—­I thought it would be wrong not to do so.  He asked M. le Duc in a whisper, across the table, afterwards called to the Keeper of the Seals; both agreed, and then we really seated ourselves.

These movements had augmented the trouble and curiosity of every one.  The eyes of all, occupied with the Regent, had been removed from the door, so that the absence of the bastards was by no means generally remarked.  As soon as it was perceived, everybody looked inquiringly around, and remained standing in expectation.  I sat down in the seat of the Comte de Toulouse.  The Duc de Guiche, who sat on the other side of me, left a seat between us, and still waited for the bastards.  He told me to approach nearer to him, saying I had mistaken my place.  I replied not a word, looking on at the company, which was a sight to see.  At the second or third summons, I replied that he, on the contrary, must approach me.

“And M. le Comte de Toulouse?” replied he.

“Approach,” said I, and seeing him motionless with astonishment, looking towards the Duc du Maine’s seat, which had been taken by the Keeper of the Seals, I pulled him by his coat (I was seated), saying to him, “Come here and sit down.”

I pulled him so hard that he seated himself near me without understanding aught.

“But what is the meaning of all this?” he demanded; “where are these gentlemen?”

“I don’t know,” replied I, impatiently; “but they are not here.”

At the same time, the Duc de Noailles, who sat next to the Duc de Guiche, and who, enraged at counting for nothing in preparations for such a great day, had apparently divined that I was in the plot, vanquished by his curiosity, stretched over the table in front of the Duc de Guiche, and said to me: 

“In the name of Heaven, M. le Duc, do me the favour to say what all this means?”

I was at daggers-drawn with him, as I have explained, and had no mercy for him.  I turned, therefore, towards him with a cold and disdainful air, and, after having heard him out, and looked at him, I turned away again.  That was all my reply.  The Duc de Guiche pressed me to say something, even if it was only that I knew all.  I denied it, and yet each seated himself slowly, because intent only upon looking around, and divining what all this could mean, and because it was a long time before any one could comprehend that we must proceed to business without the bastards, although nobody opened his mouth.