"Yes, I know that, since Manicamp, De Wardes, and others are living there."
"Precisely. Well, monsieur, admire the singularity of the circumstance; the two rooms destined for M. de Guiche are exactly the very two rooms situated underneath those which Mademoiselle de Montalais and Mademoiselle de la Valliere occupy."
"Well; what then?"
"'What then,' do you say? Why, these two rooms are empty, since M. de Guiche is now lying wounded at Fontainebleau."
"I assure you, my dear monsieur, I cannot guess your meaning."
"Well! if I had the happiness to call myself Saint-Aignan, I should guess immediately."
"And what would you do, then?"
"I should at once change the rooms I am occupying here, for those which M. de Guiche is not using yonder."
"Can you suppose such a thing?" said Saint-Aignan disdainfully. "What! abandon the chief post of honor, the proximity to the king, a privilege conceded only to princes of the blood, to dukes, and peers! Permit me to tell you, my dear Monsieur de Malicorne, that you must be out of your senses."
"Monsieur," replied the young man, seriously, "you commit two mistakes. My name is Malicorne, simply; and I am in perfect possession of all my senses." Then, drawing a paper from his pocket, he said, "Listen to what I am going to say; and, afterward, I will show you this paper."