She shook her head, and when he reiterated his question, and leaned forward in order to take her hand, she contrived to say, moderately calmly, even though every word came with an effort from her parched throat:
'The man with the mask? ... The Prince de Froidmont? ... You are sure?'
'Sure of what, my dear?' he riposted.
'That he is the Duc d'Anjou?'
Monseigneur laughed loudly and long, apparently much relieved.
'Oh! is that what troubles you, my child?' he said gaily. 'Well then, let me assure you that I am as sure of that as that I am alive. Why!' he added, evidently much surprised, 'how could you ask such a funny thing?'
'I did not know,' she murmured vaguely. 'Sometimes an exalted prince will woo a maid by proxy ... so I thought...'
But evidently the idea of Jacqueline's doubts greatly tickled Monseigneur's fancy.
'What a strange conceit, my child!' he said with condescending indulgence. 'By proxy, forsooth! His Highness came himself, not more than three days after Messire de Montigny completed negotiations with him at La Fère. He desired to remain incognito and chose to lodge in a poor hostelry; but Madame la Reyne de Navarre begged us in a letter writ by her own august hand, to make Monsieur Duc d'Anjou, her dear brother, right welcome in Cambray. By proxy!' and Monseigneur laughed again, highly amused. 'Why, His Highness was in my study but two hours ago, and made formal proposal for your hand in marriage!'
Then, as the door behind him was thrown open and old Nicolle, shuffling in, announced M. le Comte de Lalain, d'Inchy turned to his old friend and said, highly delighted with what he regarded as a good joke: