I entered by the window and the curtains were closed behind; and in the younger lady, who had so hastily assumed her disguise, and who tremblingly handed to me a glass of wine, I recognised my pretty friend, the mask of the Place de la Grève; and I remarked that the hand which gave me the glass, was small, white, and delicate as a lily leaf.
'You shall remain here until pursuit is over,' said the lady, approaching a hand-bell; but suddenly she paused; her brow clouded and her eyes sparkled. 'Oh, monsieur, if all this story be but the trick of a gallant, who may have followed us—'
'Madame!' I exclaimed, and drew myself up angrily.
'Enough, monsieur—forgive me; 'twas but the thought of a moment, and this Paris of ours is so full of tricks and tricksters. My house is yours—be assured, sir, it is large enough for us both.'
'May I ask to whom I have the honour of being indebted?'
She gave me one of her beautiful but inexplicable smiles, as she replied,
'I am Madame Clara d'Ische.'
'The Countess d'Amboise?
'Yes.'
'Oh, madame!' I exclaimed; 'this is a happy fatality! it is on you, and you only, that all my hopes in France depend.'