“Come, let us have it,” and he clasped my hand again. “I should have remembered that I had your clear brain and loyal heart still to rely upon.”
“Answer me one question, M. le Duc,” I said. “Suppose the princess and yourself were in a carriage speeding towards the frontier. Suppose your flight was not discovered for eight or ten hours. Do you think you would be safe?”
“Safe, de Brancas? Why, man, with one hour’s start we should be safe. I have a dozen horses the like of which are not to be found in France, not even in the regent’s stables.”
“And where are these horses?” I asked.
“In my stables here.”
“Then, my dear friend,” I cried, springing to my feet, “consider it done. At ten o’clock to-night Mlle. de Valois and yourself will set out from Paris. In two days you will be safe at Mons, that is, if you are permitted to pass the frontier.”
“Trust me for that,” said Richelieu. “A thousand pistoles will accomplish wonders. The only thing I do not understand, my friend, is how you will manage to get Charlotte into the carriage with me.”
“M. le Duc,” I queried, “do you imagine for a moment that the thought of this marriage pleases her?”
“No more than it does myself.”
“Would she not, then, welcome an opportunity of escaping it?”