‘Have you despatches, Monsieur de Serrans?’ asked a very daintily-dressed and soft-voiced gentleman, with a wand of office as chamberlain.
‘No, Monsieur le Marquis. I have a verbal message for his Majesty from the Duc de Bassompierre, and I crave an early audience.’
‘His Majesty is going to supper,’ replied the chamberlain. ‘I will try and obtain admission for you to-morrow.’
‘The Duc’s orders were very pressing, Monsieur le Marquis. He was retiring for want of reinforcements, but would still hold his ground if his Majesty ordered it.’
‘I regret it infinitely, but what is to be done, Monsieur?’ said the other, with a slight shrug of the shoulders.
‘At the hazard of spoiling his Majesty’s appetite, I ‘d like to see him at once, Monsieur de Brezé,’ said the officer boldly.
The polished courtier turned a look of half astonishment, half rebuke, on the soldier, and tripped up the stairs without a word.
‘I am de service, sir,’ whispered Gerald to the young officer. ‘Could I possibly be of any use to you?’
‘I am afraid not,’ replied the other courteously. ‘I have a message to be delivered to his Majesty’s own ear, and the answer to which I was to carry to my general. What I have just mentioned to M. de Brezé was not of the importance of that with which I am charged.’
‘And will it be too late to-morrow?’