WHERE CHICOT GUESSES WHY D’EPERNON HAD BLOOD ON HIS FEET AND NONE IN HIS CHEEKS.
The king, returning to the Louvre, found his friends peacefully asleep, except D’Epernon, whose bed was empty.
“Not come in yet; how imprudent,” murmured the king to Chicot, who had also returned, and was standing with them by their beds. “The fool; having to fight to-morrow with a man like Bussy, and to take no more care than this. Let them seek M. d’Epernon,” said he, going out of the room, and speaking to an usher.
“M. d’Epernon is just coming in, sire,” replied the man.
Indeed, D’Epernon came softly along, thinking to glide unperceived to his room.
On seeing the king he looked confused.
“Ah! here you are at last,” said Henri; “come here and look at your friends. They are wise! they understand the importance of the duel to-morrow; but you, instead of praying and sleeping like them, have been running about the streets. Corbleu; how pale you are! What will you look like to-morrow?”
D’Epernon was indeed pale, but at the king’s remark he colored.
“Now go to bed,” continued Henri, “and sleep if you can.”
“Why not?”