“You shall see, if it comes to a question of using our swords,” I said. And then I remembered the bandage and my hand went to my head. “I cannot wear this ridiculous thing, I must remove it,” and I started to do so.
“Not for a moment!” cried the duke, springing to my side and seizing my hands. “Who can tell what hurt it would do you? Leave it there, Jean, or I swear I shall not go a step outside this house to-night.”
“But,” and I stopped. I could not tell him that it was fear of Louise’s laughing eyes which moved me.
Richelieu understood in an instant.
“It is an honorable wound,” he said, “received in an honorable cause. Why seek to hide it? It is the sight of wounds like that which moves a woman’s heart. They will find your pale, bandaged head very interesting, Jean, believe me.”
And so I left the bandage where it was.
Nine o’clock came, the carriage was waiting, we entered it, and drove by a circuitous route to the back of the Palais Royal gardens. Here we left it, and instructed the coachman to drive slowly up and down until he should be called. That done, I led the way under the shade of the chestnuts towards the palace. Richelieu asked no questions, but I could see that he was pale with anxiety. We mounted the low wall enclosing the little park which we had entered once before under the guidance of Mlle. Dacour, dropped down on the other side, and turned to the right.
“Ah, ah,” whispered Richelieu, “I begin to see. You hope to gain entrance by the secret staircase. But can you find the spring?”
“I believe so,” I answered, in the same low tone. “I was watching Mlle. Dacour closely when she opened the door for us, and know about where it is.” As I spoke I felt along the wall, but my fingers detected nothing. “It was near here. Have patience,” I said, for I could feel his hand on my arm trembling with suspense. Again I ran my hand over the wall, pressing gently on two or three small irregularities, but without result. “Come, I will try again,” and a third time I examined the wall, this time more carefully and over a larger area. “Ah, I have it!” I exclaimed as I felt a yielding under my fingers, and the door swung inward.
“It was time,” said Richelieu, for as we entered another door near by opened, and hurrying feet passed along the walk, even as we pushed the door shut after us. We were in intense darkness, but I knew the way, and guiding myself by the wall, turned without hesitation towards the narrow hallway, Richelieu following close behind, his hand in mine. We found the hallway without difficulty and passed along it cautiously until we reached the end, and slowly felt our way up the little winding staircase there. The wooden wall which formed the back of the preserve closet stopped us.