"Do not worry, my love," said the Béarnais, "we have three swordsmen watching in the darkness."
"Three are very few, sire."
"Three are enough when they are De Mouy, Saucourt, and Barthélemy."
"Is De Mouy in Paris with you?"
"Certainly."
"He dared to return to the capital? Has he, then, like you, some poor woman who is in love with him?"
"No, but he has an enemy whose death he has sworn to have. Nothing but hate, my dear, commits as many follies as love."
"Thank you, sire."
"Oh," said Henry, "I do not refer to our present follies. I mean those of the past and the future. But do not let us discuss this; we have no time to lose."
"You still plan to leave Paris?"