Louise shuddered at the tone in which he spoke. Marotte had risen; and, while she stood half-turned from the window, threw a rapid glance into the street. The next moment she seized a mandoline that lay on a console of marble, and burst into a gay and jovial song, keeping time to the measure with graceful and wild movements. The gipsy listened with wide open eyes, and lips apart. He had no sight nor ears but for his bewitching prisoner and her song. Louise comprehended Marotte’s object. It was to cover the noise of footsteps and voices on the staircase.
As she expected, a knock sounded at the door of the outer room. The gipsy, with a half-spoken curse, turned his head in the direction of the interruption, but did not stir from the spot as Marotte finished her song.
‘It is Benoit returned,’ said Louise.
‘I hope it may be,’ said the gipsy. ‘I best like mademoiselle here to be alone.’ And he left the room, without closing the door.
Louise’s remark was made in so natural a tone, that no suspicion entered his mind. He did not even pause to ask who knocked, but ushered in the stranger at once.
The tall and beautiful lady whom Louise had seen step from the carriage entered the apartment, followed by four stout and well-armed lackeys.
The gipsy, with the quickness of his tribe, saw his error; but it was too late to repair it. Marotte and Louise, who had watched with intense eagerness the opening of the door, rushed from the inner room, and the former, throwing herself at the feet of Madame de Maintenon (for Madame Scarron had lately received the lands and title of Maintenon from the King) seized her hands, and kissing them, poured forth mingled thanks and prayers. With that winning and grave gentleness which belonged to her, the lady calmed her, and addressing herself to Louise, said—
‘Marotte’s note tells me you too are in danger, and need a friend and a refuge. Come with me, both of you.’
The gitano saw that resistance was useless. The lackeys clutched their long batons in a style that showed it would take but little pressure to make them use them. With all the suppleness of a true Bohemian, he was profuse in his apologies to Madame de Maintenon, to Marotte, and to Louise, and asked their witness to the kindness and civility of his treatment towards them.
Madame de Maintenon cut short his protestations with a contemptuous gesture, and bidding her lackeys mark the number of the house, and the appearance of the gipsy, left the room, accompanied by her two protegees.