"From me, never, sir," replied Jean Charost.
"Boy, you are bold," thundered forth the duke, with his eyes flashing.
"I am so, your highness," replied Jean Charost, in a voice perfectly firm, but with a respectful manner, "because I stand in the presence of a prince bearing a high name. I know he has concluded treaties of friendship and alliance with my royal master of Orleans, and I am confident that he will never even think of forcing from his kinsman's servant one word regarding his due and honorable service. You have heard what this good man has said, that I am faithful to those I serve. Were I your servant, I would sacrifice my life sooner than reveal to any other your secrets committed to my charge; and though, in truth, my business now is very simple, yet, as I have no permission to reveal it, I will reveal it to no one; nor do I believe you will ask me. Such, I know, would be the conduct of the Duke of Orleans toward you; such, I am sure, will be your conduct toward him."
"Fool! You are no judge of the conduct of princes," replied the duke; and then, for a moment or two, he remained silent, gnawing his lip, with his brow knit, and his eyes cast down.
A low, sweet voice, close by Jean Charost, whispered timidly, "Do not enrage him. When too much crossed, he is furious."
"Well," said the duke, at length, "I will not force you, young man. Doubtless you are making a mystery where there is none; and by refusing to answer a very simple question, which any prince might ask of another's messenger--especially," he added, with a grim smile, "where there is such love as between my cousin of Orleans and myself--you have almost caused me to believe that there is some secret machination against me. Go your ways, however; and thank your good stars that sent you to help me out of the quagmire, or your ears might have been somewhat shorter before you left this room."
The young man's cheek glowed warmly, and his lips quivered; but the same sweet voice whispered, "Answer not. But leave not the town to-night. Conceal yourself somewhere till daylight. You will be followed if you go."
Jean Charost took no apparent notice; but bowing low to the Duke of Burgundy, who turned away his eyes with haughty coldness, and inclining his head to Madame De Giac, who looked full at him with her sweet, serpent smile, he quitted the room with a calm, firm step, and the attendant closed the door behind him.
As soon as he was gone, the duke exclaimed, with a low, bitter laugh, "On my life! he lords it as if he were of the blood royal."
"Honesty is better than royal blood," said the astrologer.