“I could manage it, Lucette, and manage Antoine, too. Listen. Go to him and pretend that you need certain things for yourself from Malincourt; say nothing of miladi, and we will all go together. If both Antoine and I are with you, no questions will be asked as to where you go. You can then get the disguise and whatever else you need for miladi, and I’ll find a pretext to get rid of Antoine, and you and I alone will go to miladi.”
“How cunningly you plan, Jacques; how shrewd! You make it seem so simple,” and Lucette thanked him with a radiant smile. Her face clouded again instantly, however, as she added, “But Antoine is a dangerous man, Jacques.”
“I will manage that. At need, I will have him recalled from Malincourt, or we will return to the Castle and then I will get him away. But mind, not a syllable about miladi.”
“You give me courage, Jacques. Let us go to him. He keeps his ward of me in the courtyard, that I may not pass. You speak of Malincourt to him. You can hide your thoughts; and he would read mine.”
They went then together and found Antoine lounging in the courtyard chatting with a group of soldiers. He left them at once and crossed to Lucette, looking displeased that Dauban was with her.
“You have kept me waiting,” he said.
“And is that a crime, M. Gaoler?” she answered mockingly, with a toss of the head. “Maybe I was in better company,” and she glanced at Dauban, who smiled self-complacently. “Perhaps you would like me to be gyved to you by the wrist.”
“Nearer the finger-tips than the wrist would suit me better, Lucette,” he laughed.
“Well, a gaoler should be a judge of fetters, but I wear none.”
“Not fetters, Lucette; a ring for the left hand,” he answered, looking at her with a bold admiration that was little to Dauban’s taste.