"And why a week ago rather than to-day, madame?" asked Bathilde, with anxiety.
"Because a week ago I should have yielded to none the pleasure of taking you to my father, and that now is impossible."
"Impossible! and why?" cried Bathilde.
"Do you not know that I am in complete disgrace since the day before yesterday? Alas! princess as I am, I am a woman like you, and like you I have had the misfortune to love. We daughters of the royal race, you know, may not dispose of our hearts without the authority of the king and his ministers. I have disposed of my heart, and I have nothing to say, for I was pardoned; but I disposed of my hand, and I am punished. See, what a strange thing! They make a crime of what in any one else would have been praised. For three days my lover has been my husband, and for three days, that is to say, from the moment when I could present myself before my father without blushing, I am forbidden his presence. Yesterday my guard was taken from me; this morning I presented myself at the Palais Royal and was refused admittance."
"Alas!" said Bathilde, "I am unhappy, for I had no hope but in you, madame, and I know no one who can introduce me to the regent. And it is to-morrow, madame, at eight o'clock, that they will kill him whom I love as you love M. de Riom. Oh, madame, take pity on me, for if you do not, I am lost!"
"Mon Dieu! Riom, come to our aid," said the duchess, turning to her husband, who entered at this moment; "here is a poor child who wants to see my father directly, without delay; her life depends on the interview. Her life! What am I saying? More than her life—the life of a man she loves. Lauzun's nephew should never be at a loss; find us a means, and, if it be possible, I will love you more than ever."
"I have one," said Riom, smiling.
"Oh, monsieur," cried Bathilde, "tell it me, and I will be eternally grateful."
"Oh, speak!" said the Duchesse de Berry, in a voice almost as pressing as Bathilde's.
"But it compromises your sister singularly."