“Ah, M. de Bussy!”
“Yes, doubtless; do you think I believe that you come here through friendship; you, who love no one?”
“Oh, Bussy, to say such things to me!”
“Well, be quick, monseigneur, what do you want? When one serves a prince, and he dissimulates to the extent of calling you his friend, one must pay for the dissimulation by being ready to sacrifice everything, even life, if necessary.”
The duke colored, but it was too dark to see it. “I wanted nothing of you, Bussy, and you deceive yourself in thinking my visit interested. I desire only, seeing the fine evening, and that all Paris is out to sign the League, that you should accompany me a little about the streets.”
Bussy looked at him. “Have you not Aurilly to go with you?”
“A lute-player!”
“Ah, monseigneur, you do not mention all his qualities; I believed that he fulfilled other functions for you. Besides, you have a dozen other gentlemen; I hear them in the ante-chamber.”
At this moment the door opened. “Who is there?” said the duke, haughtily. “Who enters unannounced where I am?”
“I, Rémy,” replied the young man, without any embarrassment.