“It may be long before we dine together again, monsieur,” I said. “May I assure you of my devoted friendship?”
“I have no need of such assurance,” and Richelieu arose from his chair and came to the side of mine. “I have already had a hundred proofs of it, in return for which I have done so little.”
“Oh, do not say that,” and I faced this man whom I had come to love with a great tenderness. “What should I have done in Paris but for you?”
And as I looked into his eyes I knew that here was one whose heart was brave and loyal.
Too moved to say more, we continued the meal in silence, each busy with his own thoughts. Mine were of Louise Dacour, and I wondered what the future had in store for us. A sudden thought occurred to me.
“Mlle. Dacour may choose to accompany the princess,” I said.
“And if she does, you will join us, will you not, de Brancas?” asked Richelieu, quickly. “Believe me, my friend, nothing would please me more than to have you with me, but I was loath to ask you to leave Paris while she remained behind.”
I consented, and it was agreed that I should join the duke at Brussels within a week if Mlle. de Valois took her companion with her. And if, I added to myself, the regent did not see fit to wreak upon my head the wrath which he would doubtless feel towards Richelieu. But of this I said nothing.
“Are you sure that you are strong enough to undertake this expedition?” asked Richelieu, as we arose from table.
I laughed at him.