'Bravo, you are just the height for a cuirassier of the guard, and shall be one. We require but two more to complete our hundred men-at-arms; and I expect the Viscount Dundrennan and Sir Quentin Home daily from Scotland. You lodge—'
'With Maître Pierre Omelette, at the Golden Fleur-de-lis.'
'Ah—in the Rue d'Ecosse—the name attracted you to that street I presume.'
'Yes, Marquis.'
He smiled and patted me kindly on the shoulder.
'On riding back to the Louvre, I shall mention your name to Patrick Gordon our Marechal de Logis; he will make all the necessary arrangements, after which, you will be a chevalier of the Scottish guard—farewell; Madame la Comtesse adieu; I hope to see you in Paris soon—we have not had much of the sun there lately.'
'Antoine, show out M. le Marquis,' said she, giving Gordon her beautiful hand to kiss.
'Harkee Blane,' he whispered, hurriedly as he passed us; 'you are in a fair way to fortune; but as a brother Scot and friend of my kinsman, I may warn you that you stand upon a precipice. Already she deems you one of her lovers, and as such will consider nothing too good for you for a time; but BE WARY! This chamber has occasionally led to the Bastille or to the more dreadful oubliettes of the Louvre. Farewell,' he added, raising his voice; 'the price of a horse is about six hundred crowns—but our Marechal de Logis will arrange everything for you. His apartments are at the Louvre, where he occupies the very shrine of love and beauty.'
'How, Marquis?' asked madame.
'He has the apartments of the beautiful Diana de Poictiers—the Duchess de Valentinois—whose spirit is said to haunt them.'