Henri went back.
"We are now in the midst of an army," said he to Remy; "hide yourselves in the lodging I will show you, and do not let madame be seen by any one."
Remy installed himself with Diana in the lodging pointed out. About two o'clock the Duc de Joyeuse entered with his trumpets blowing, lodged his troops, and gave strict injunctions to prevent disorder. He distributed barley to the men, and hay to the horses, and to the wounded some wine and beer, which had been found in the cellars, and himself, in sight of all, dined on a piece of black bread and a glass of water. Everywhere he was received as a deliverer with cries of gratitude.
"Now," said he to his brother, when they were alone, "let the Flemings come, and I will beat them, and even, if this goes on, eat them, for in truth I am very hungry, and this is miserable stuff," added he, throwing into a corner the piece of bread, which in public he had eaten so enthusiastically.
"But now, Henri, tell me how it happens that I find you in Flanders when I thought you in Paris."
"My brother," said Henri, "life became insupportable to me at Paris, and I set out to join you in Flanders."
"All from love?" asked Joyeuse.
"No, from despair. Now, Anne, I am no longer in love; my passion is sadness."
"My brother, permit me to tell you that you have chosen a miserable woman. Virtue that cares not for the sufferings of others is barbarous—is an absence of Christian charity."
"Oh! my brother, do not calumniate virtue."