I

'Madam la Reyne,' wrote Gilles the self-same night ere he laid down to rest, 'I entreat you to seek out Monseigneur le duc d'Anjou at once. Matters have occurred which might endanger the whole Success of this Enterprise. Madame Jacqueline is beautiful, exquisite, the most perfect Woman that ever graced a princely husband's house. So let Monseigneur come at once, Madame la Reyne, at once, I beg of you most humbly! and do entreat you to send me word by Maître Jehan when I may expect him.

'I am, your Majesty's
'Most Obedient and Most Faithful Servant,
'Gilles de Crohin.'

He felt more calm, more at peace with himself when he had written this letter, and allowed Jehan now to undress him and to attend to his wounds. They were not serious, certainly not so serious as many others which he had sustained in the past and recovered from without much trouble. But, somehow, this time he felt in a fever, the paltry scratches seemed unaccountably to throb, and his temples ached nigh to splitting.

Jehan, stolid and disapproving, pulled off his master's boots, took off doublet and hose with care and dexterity, but without making any attempt at conversation. What went on behind his low, square forehead could easily be conjectured: a towering rage against his own halting speech, which had prevented his proclaiming the truth before Madame Jacqueline, warred with a certain vague terror that Messire was angered with him for having brought Madame upon the scene.

But Messire apparently was too tired to scold. With unusual meekness he allowed Jehan to wash and dress that cut he had in the shoulder, and the one which had penetrated the fleshy part of his thigh. Maître Jehan was skilful in such matters. His father had been an apothecary at Grenoble and had taught the youngster something of the art of drugs and simples, until the latter's roving disposition had driven him to seeking fortune abroad. He still knew, however, how to minister to a wounded man, how to stem the flow of blood, and apply healing bandages. All this he did now in silence, and with the loving care engendered by his passionate affection for the master whom he served, the friend to whom he owed his life.

And all the while Gilles lay quite quiescent, so passive and patient that Jehan felt he must be very sick. Anger, self-contempt, self-reproach, had brought a heavy frown between his brows. Jacqueline's adorable image gave him a heart-ache more difficult to bear than any physical pain. For a long while he kept his eyes resolutely closed, in order to shut out the vision of a golden head and a demure, tantalizing face, which seemed to mock at him from out the dark angle of the room. It was only when Jehan had finished his ministrations and in his turn was ready to go to bed that he woke once more to the realities of life.

'Thou art a good soul, Jehan,' he murmured, with the first return to well-being brought about by the good fellow's restoratives.

'And you a mightily foolish one!' thought Jehan within himself, while he merely stuttered a moody: 'Aye—aye!'

'To-morrow morning,' continued Gilles; 'or rather, this morning—for 'tis past midnight now—thou'lt start for La Fère——'

'F-f-f-for La F-f-f——'

'For La Fère. Thou'lt take thy safe-conduct and this letter which I have just written for Madame la Reyne de Navarre.'

'B-b-b-but——'

'Hold thy tongue till I have finished. If Madame la Reyne hath perchance left La Fère, thou'lt follow her whithersoever she may have gone.'

'And if-f-f-f——'

'There is no "if" about the matter, my good Jehan,' quoth Gilles with a sigh and in a tone of unwonted firmness. 'Thou must find Madame la Reyne, and if she be not in La Fère then thou must follow her to Paris, or to Pau, or to the outermost ends of the earth; for Madame la Reyne must have my letter as soon as ever possible or the consequences for her, for me, for us all would be disastrous.'

Jehan made no further attempt at conversation. He only nodded his head in obedience and understanding.

'Madame la Reyne,' continued Gilles after a moment's pause, 'will, I doubt not, send me a letter in reply. I need not tell thee, Jehan, to guard both my letter and her reply with thy life.'

'N-n-no!' said Jehan with sudden glibness. 'You n-n-need not t-t-tell me that.'

'The letter would give us all away if it fell in alien hands. It must be destroyed, and thou too, honest Jehan, ere it leave thy hands.'

Jehan made a sign of comprehension, which Gilles evidently understood, for he continued more easily:

'Then get some rest now, Jehan, for thou must start as soon after daybreak as possible. And in God's name,' he added with a weary sigh, 'return with the answer within the week, or maybe thou'lt find my body rotting upon the gallows somewhere in the town.'

Jehan shrugged his wide shoulders. This meant that he thought his master must be slightly delirious, else he would never have spoken such rubbish. He took the letter which Gilles had folded into as small a compass as possible, and slipped it underneath his doublet and his shirt, against his skin. Then he tapped his breast and looked reassuringly on his master. Gesture and look conveyed all that he desired, and Gilles was satisfied.

He knew that he could trust Jehan as he would himself. With a final sigh which was almost one of content, he turned over on his side and went to sleep.