"Well, I am ready to satisfy you," exclaimed De Royans, with a laugh, "on horseback or on foot, with lance and shield, or sword and dagger. Do not let us spoil a good quarrel with silly explanations. We are both of one mind, it seems; let us settle preliminaries at once."
"I have not time to settle all preliminaries now," replied Jean Charost; "for I am expected in another place; but so far we can arrange our plan. The day after to-morrow I will ask the duke's permission to go for three days to Mantes. I will return at once to Meudon. You can easily get out of Paris for an hour or two, and join me there at the auberge. Then a ten minutes' walk will place us where we can settle our dispute without risk to the survivor."
"On my life, this is gallant!" cried De Royans, with a considerable change of expression. "You are a lad of spirit after all, De Brecy."
"You have insulted my father's memory by supposing otherwise," replied Jean Charost. "But do not let us add bitterness to our quarrel. We understand each other. Whenever you hear I am gone to Mantes, remember you will find me the next day at Meudon--and so good-night."
Thus saying, he left him, and hurried to the eating-room of Lomelini, who would fain have extracted from him what the duke had said to him as they passed into the house; but Jean Charost was upon his guard, and, as soon as supper was over, returned to his own chamber.
Martin Grille, though he had quick eyes, could discover no trace of emotion on his young master's countenance; and desperately tired of his solitary watch, he gladly received his dismissal for the night. A few minutes after, Jean Charost issued from his room again, and walked with a silent step to the door of the duke's toilet-chamber. No attendants were in waiting, as was usual, and following the directions he had received, he opened the door and entered. He was surprised to find the prince dressed in mantle and hood, as if ready to go out; but upon the table before him was lying a perfumed note, open, and another fastened, with rose-colored silk, and sealed.
"Welcome, De Brecy," said the duke, with a gay and smiling air; "I wish you to render me a service, my friend. You must take this note for me to-night to the house of Madame De Giac, give it into her own hand, hear what she says, and bring me her answer. I shall be at the queen's palace, near the Porte Barbette."
The blood rushed up into Jean Charost's face, covering it over with a woman-like blush. It was the most painful moment he had ever as yet experienced in existence. His mind instantly rushed to a conclusion from premises that he could hardly define to his own mind, much less explain to the Duke of Orleans. He fancied himself employed in the basest of services--used for the most disgraceful of purposes; and yet nothing had been said which could justify him in refusing to obey. Whether he would or not, however, and before he could consider, the words "Oh, sir!" burst from his lips, and his face spoke the rest plainly enough.
The Duke of Orleans gazed at him with a frowning brow and a flashing eye, and then demanded, in a loud, stern tone, "What is it you mean, sir?"
Jean Charost was silent for an instant, and then replied, with painful embarrassment, "I hardly know what I mean, your highness--I may be wrong, and doubtless am wrong--but I feared that the errand on which your highness sends me might be one unbecoming me to execute, and which your highness might afterward regret to have given." He had gone the step too far, so dangerous with the spoiled children of fortune.