"Well, well, I will win them back again," replied D'Aubin, "the first truce that comes."
"I don't know that," rejoined the German; "you are always unlucky with the dice, D'Aubin: you should be more careful, or, by my faith, the Jews will have all your fine estates in pawn."
D'Aubin coloured deeply; for, as Wolfstrom well knew, the hint that he threw out of excessive expenses, and consequent embarrassments, went home. Mayenne, however, who by those words gained a new insight into the situation of the Count, smiled, well satisfied; assured, from that moment, that those who had it in their power to grant or to withhold the hand of the rich heiress of Menancourt would not be long without the support of Philip d'Aubin.
The Count recovered himself in a moment; and, turning the matter off with a pointed jest, which hit the German nearly as hard, he prepared to take his leave before anything more unpleasant could be said.
"I shall look for the performance of your promise, my lord Duke," he said, as he turned to depart; "and three days hence, shall hope to hear that my cousin has been liberated."
"Come, to make sure of it, yourself," replied Madame de Montpensier, holding out her hand, which he raised in gallant reverence to his lips; "come and make sure of it, yourself. Sup with me at Rene Armandi's, our dearly beloved perfumer, who has a right choice and tasteful cook; and, though the profane rabble insist upon it that he used to aid our godmother, of blessed memory, Catherine, mother of many bad kings, in sending to heaven, or the other abode, various persons, to prepare a place for her, we will ask him, on this occasion, to give us dainties, and not poisons."
"You must send me a safe-conduct, however," replied D'Aubin, laughing, "and I will come with all my heart."
"A safe-conduct you shall have," answered Mayenne, "and as many as you like. But, remember, I do not make myself responsible for Armandi no, nor Catherine, either," he added, with a smile.
"Oh! I will trust her Highness," replied D'Aubin: "the only thing I fear are her eyes;" and, with a low bow, and a glance which left it difficult to determine whether the gallant part of his speech was jest or earnest, he took his leave, and, mounting his horse, rode away towards the gates of Paris.
"He teases me, that Count d'Aubin," said Madame de Montpensier: "I don't know whether to love him, or to hate him."