“Ah! I hope you will appreciate my devotion; in a tumble-down old house, near the ramparts. But you, my prince, how did you get out of the Louvre? How was it that I found you on the road, with M. d’Aubigné for a companion?”
“Because I have friends.”
“You! friends!”
“Yes, friends that you do not know.”
“Well, and who are they?”
“The King of Navarre and D’Aubigné, whom you saw.”
“The King of Navarre! Ah! true, did you not conspire together?”
“I never conspired, M. de Bussy.”
“No; ask poor La Mole and Coconnas.”
“La Mole,” said the prince, gloomily, “died for another crime than the one alleged against him.”