“Yes, I am unquiet about him. We do not live in times when a prince ought to travel without a good escort.”
“Well, if you are unquiet, so am I.”
“About what?”
“About his highness also.”
“Why?”
“Do you not know what they say?”
“That he has gone to Anjou.”
“No; that he is dead.”
“Bah!” said Monsoreau, with a tone of surprise, not unmixed with joy, “you told me he was traveling.”
“Diable! they persuaded me so, but now I have good reason to think that if the poor prince be traveling, it is to another world.”