“For that we have to thank my friend here,” and Richelieu drew me forward. “Mademoiselle, allow me to present M. Jean de Brancas, a gentleman whom I have learned to trust as I would myself.”
“And who hopes some day to be of service to Mlle. de Valois,” I added, bowing over the hand which she graciously gave me.
“You have already been of service to me, monsieur,” she said, kindly, “in assisting M. de Richelieu to escape from prison. But I also have a companion. Come here, Louise. Gentlemen, this is my very dear friend Mlle. Louise Dacour, my trust in whom, I think, is fully attested by her being here to-night.”
We both bowed to her, and I caught a glimpse of laughing eyes and an adorable mouth, which made my heart leap.
“Let us go,” said Richelieu, offering his arm to the princess.
“But where?” she asked.
“I care not so we be together,” and as they moved away down the avenue I followed with Mlle. Dacour. The light touch of her hand on my arm filled me with an emotion which I tried in vain to analyze.
“Oh, come, M. de Brancas,” she said after a moment, in what seemed to me the sweetest voice in the world. “It is plainly to be seen that you have never been in love.”
“Never until this moment, mademoiselle, I swear to you,” I answered. “But how did you guess it?”
“No, no, you are not in love even now, I assure you, monsieur,” she laughed, “else you would not follow mademoiselle and the duke so closely.”