“Ma foi! I am examining, by the king’s order, the physiognomy of the city. He said to me, ‘St. Luc, walk about the streets of Paris, and if you hear any one say I have abdicated, contradict him.’”
“And have you heard it?”
“Nowhere; and as it is just midnight, and I have met no one but M. de Monsoreau, I have dismissed my friends, and am about to return.”
“M. de Monsoreau?”
“Yes.”
“You met him?”
“With a troop of armed men; ten or twelve at least.”
“Impossible!”
“Why so?”
“He ought to be at Compiègne.”