"Well, sire, it may perhaps be the very one."
"I cannot say; since that time, I too, Joyeuse, have assumed religious vows myself, or nearly so, indeed."
"Sire," said Joyeuse, "I entreat you to give me, at any rate, a letter to this lady, and my leave of absence for a couple of days."
"You are going to leave me!" exclaimed the king; "to leave me all alone here?"—"Oh! ungrateful king," said Chicot, shrugging his shoulders, "am I not here?"
"My letter, if you please, sire," said Joyeuse. The king sighed, but wrote it notwithstanding.
"But you cannot have anything to do at Paris?" said Henri, handing the note to Joyeuse.
"I beg your pardon, sire, I ought to escort, or at least, to watch over, my brothers."
"You are right; away with you, but return as quickly as you can."
Joyeuse did not wait for this permission to be repeated; he quietly ordered his horses, and having satisfied himself that Henri had already set off, galloped all the way until he reached his destination.
Without even changing his dress, the young man went straight to the Rue de Chevet Saint-Laudry. At the end of this street was the Rue d'Enfer, and parallel with it the Rue des Marmouzets.