"I, too, must be speedy," replied D'Aubin; "for I must be back in the camp long before dawn, lest there be any tampering with my troops. They are all fresh, and new-arrived, so that I can do with them what I will at present; but there is many a shrewd head both amongst the Huguenots and royalists, and, not being too sure of my attachment, they may think to make sure of my soldiers."
With his swift and gliding step Armandi soon re-appeared, bearing the writing materials which had been demanded, and D'Aubin proceeded to put down the brief promise which he required from Mayenne; but scarcely had he finished, when the leader of the reitters made his appearance, and seemed somewhat surprised at the grave and business-like faces by which he was received.
"What is the hour, sir Albert?" demanded Madame de Montpensier. "Has it yet struck nine?"
"The light, or rather the darkness, says that it is nearer ten," replied the German; "and I heard the nine o'clock bell near an hour ago."
"Then I shall not find Mayenne till eleven," replied the Duchess. "His clock-work habits have, at all events, the advantage of letting one know when and where he is to be met with. Come, Armandi, is the table ready? We may as well fill the moments with something more real than poor thought."
In a moment Armandi re-appeared, and with soft and courtly words informed the Duchess that the best refreshments which his poor house and inferior artists could prepare waited her gracious presence. Catherine of Guise and her two companions followed where he led; and, proceeding into another small cabinet, they found a table covered with what might well have merited the name of cates divine, if ever anything can be so called which is destined to pamper the most animal propensity of our nature.
Placing himself beside the Duchess's chair--while his own lacqueys and the pages of the guests served and carved the dishes, and poured out the wine--Armandi, in his low, sweet tone, mingled in the conversation, descanted upon the merits of the various kinds of food, and read one of those lectures upon the mysterious art of cookery which persons addicted to the pleasures of the table are always well pleased to hear during their meals--stimulating their appetite for the good things before them, by exciting their eating imagination with pictures of unseen delicacies.
The exquisite fare, however, which was placed before them, the choice and delicious wines that flowed amongst them like water, and even the culinary eloquence of Armandi, did not seem capable of rousing either Madame de Montpensier or D'Aubin from the thoughtful seriousness into which their preceding conversation had thrown them. Albert of Wolfstrom, indeed, ate and drank, and enjoyed to the uttermost, and showed his white teeth in many a grin at the thoughts of all the rare ragouts and savoury sauces which the perfumer described; but his companions were grave and abstinent, and when the dessert was placed upon the table the Duchess rose.
"I leave you, gentlemen," she said, "for half an hour, trusting you can amuse yourselves, at least for that time, without a woman's presence. D'Aubin," she added, turning to the Count, and marking a certain degree of stern anxiety upon his brow--"D'Aubin, it shall be done!"
Thus saying she quitted them; and Wolfstrom looked to D'Aubin with inquiring eyes, as if for information regarding what was passing. But D'Aubin's countenance replied nothing; and the German, filling high a glass with sparkling Burgundy, exclaimed, "Come, come, Count, think no more of your mysteries with the lovely Duchess! Let us have the dice, and pass her half hour's absence pleasantly."