"What is there to alarm you so in the idea of a tête-à-tête with me, madame?" said he. "Are you not a princess, and am not I a gentleman?"
"Yes, you are right, monsieur, and I am wrong to be alarmed. Yes, although I now have the pleasure of seeing you for the first time, your reputation as a courteous, loyal gentleman has come to my ears. Go, mesdames, and bring Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien to me."
The two women came forth from the passage beside the bed, and walked toward the door; they turned once to be sure that the order was intended to be obeyed, and at a gesture confirming the words of their mistress, or of her locum tenens, left the room.
Canolles looked after them until they had closed the door. Then his eyes, sparkling with joy, returned to the princess.
"Tell me, Monsieur de Canolles," said she, sitting up and folding her hands, "tell me why you persecute me thus."
As she spoke she looked at the young officer, not with the haughty gaze of a princess, which she had tried with but poor success, but with a look so touching and so full of meaning that all the details of their first meeting, all the intoxicating episodes of the journey, all the memories of his nascent love came rushing over him, and enveloped his heart as with perfumed vapor.
"Madame," said he, stepping toward the bed, "it is Madame de Condé whom I am here to watch in the king's name,—not you, who are not Madame de Condé."
The young woman to whom these words were addressed gave a little shriek, became pale as death, and pressed one of her hands against her heart.
"What do you mean, monsieur?" she cried; "who do you think I am?"
"Oh! as for that," retorted Canolles, "I should be much embarrassed to explain; for I would be almost willing to swear that you are the most charming of viscounts were you not the most adorable of viscountesses."