"There is no danger," she declared, "and, besides, I have business in Paris."
"But your friends are gone," I urged. "You have heard that Condé has turned traitor?"
She flushed angrily, and answered in her masterful way, "I know the prince has taken up arms to secure his rights."
"In any case he is not here to protect you from the fury of the mob."
"Bah!" said she scornfully, "a pack of cowards! Any one—a woman even—could send them flying with a riding-whip!"
Argument was thrown away on her, but I did my best, even exaggerating the danger, and begging her to depart if only for the sake of her niece. However, she remained obstinate; not, I think, out of mere bravado, but because she misjudged the strength of the rising. Standing at the window, she pointed to the quiet street, saying triumphantly, "Where is the danger, M. de Lalande? The Rue Crillon looks to me as peaceful as the park at Aunay. Besides, the citizens are in favour of the prince, and they will not injure us."
Shrugging my shoulders impatiently, I made no reply; she must bear the consequence of her folly. Even Marie seemed to think lightly of the peril, though she thanked me prettily for my thoughtfulness. At last, annoyed by my failure, I bade them farewell, and returning to the Luxembourg despatched a soldier in search of Raoul, who looked surprised at seeing me again.
"The woman is an imbecile," he exclaimed angrily, "but we must save her in spite of herself, if it is at all possible. Are you aware that the gates are guarded, and that no one is allowed to pass without a permit? The Duke has just issued the order."
"In that case I may as well abandon the idea of getting them through, unless you can obtain a permit for us."
"I will try, if you will wait here a few minutes," and off he went to the palace.