"I will not forget it, sir," replied Martin Grille; and then added, with a laugh, "and I will bring the money safely, which is more than many a varlet could say of himself;" but before the last words were uttered, his young master was in the saddle and on his way toward the château.
Under a sharp-pointed arch which formed the gateway, two or three of the duke's men were lounging about; and the moment Jean Charost appeared, one of them advanced to his horse's side, saying, "His highness has been inquiring for you, sir."
"Is it three of the clock yet?" asked Jean Charost, somewhat anxiously.
"Not two yet, sir," replied the man; and springing from his horse, the young secretary hurried on toward the apartments of the duke. He was admitted instantly, and found his princely master seated in a chair, dressed in a light-furred dressing-gown, and sadly changed in appearance, even since the preceding day. His face was very pale, his eye heavy, and his lips parched; but still he smiled with a good-humored, though not gay expression of countenance, saying, "I hope they have not recalled you from any amusement, De Brecy; for I did not think I should want you till three. But I feel ill, my friend, and there are very busy thoughts in my mind."
He paused for a moment or two, looking down thoughtfully on the table, and then added, slowly, "When the brain is full--perhaps the heart too--of these eager, active, tireless emmets of the mind, called thoughts, we are glad to drive some of them forth. Alas! De Brecy, how rarely does a prince find any one to share them with!"
He paused again, and Jean Charost did not venture a reply. He would have fain said, "Share them with me;" but he felt that it would be presumptuous, and he remained silent till the duke at length went on. "You are different from the rest of the people about me, De Brecy; from any one I have ever had--unhackneyed in the world--not ground down to nothing by the polishing of a court. There is something new and fresh about you; somewhat like what I once was myself. Now, what am I? By starts a wise man, by starts a fool."
"Oh no, my prince," cried Jean Charost, "I can not believe that. 'Tis but temptation leads you for a moment from the path of wisdom; the sickness, as it were, of an hour. But the life is healthy; the heart is sound."
The prince smiled, but went on, apparently pursuing the course of his own thoughts. "To know what is right--to do what is wrong--to feel a strong desire for good, and constantly to fall into evil, surely this is folly; surely it is a life of folly--surely it is worse than if one did not know what ought to be, as a blind man can not be charged with stupidity for running against a wall, which any other would be an idiot not to avoid."
He looked up in the young secretary's face, and Jean Charost, encouraged by his tone, ventured to reply, "It wants but a strong will, sir. You have a strong will against your enemies, I know; why not have a strong will against yourself?"
"I have, De Brecy--I have," replied the duke. "But my strong will against myself is just like my strong will against my enemies--very potent for the time, but easily mollified; a peace is proposed--favorable terms of compromise offered, and lo! I and myself are friends again, and all our mutual offenses forgiven."