“Monsignor,” he said, “I do not merit your threats nor do I fear them. Were I a traitor, I might both deserve and dread them. As it is, I can but do my duty and no more.”
“Do it, Sieur de Calvisson, and let no fair face beguile you. Here is the ring;” and the cardinal gave him a small, plain ring with a bishop’s miter engraved upon it; “beware of losing that, for it is a sign which will admit you into the house at Brussels, and would do much mischief in other hands.”
Péron took the ring and stood looking at it gravely.
“It is a long way to Brussels, monsignor,” he said, “and I go alone; if I fall by the way, there will be none to tell the tale. Do me the justice, therefore, to believe that I will surely fulfil your instructions unless I meet my own destruction.”
“Have no fear, your fate will be known to me,” Richelieu replied calmly. “One word more, monsieur, there is a lady now in Brussels,—a great lady, mark you,—avoid her. I see you understand me. There is money for the journey; spare no bribes that may be needed; and now begone.”
Péron took two steps toward the door and then paused.
“What must I do with my charge, monsignor?” he asked. “Mademoiselle de Nançay and her woman are still in this house.”
For the first time Richelieu smiled.
“You need feel no anxiety in regard to them, Sieur de Calvisson,” he replied; “I will send mademoiselle to Paris with another escort, who will be equally zealous but not so susceptible to the influence of bright eyes.”
Péron saluted, with a flushed face, and withdrew. As he traversed the gallery beyond the cardinal’s room, he put the ring into the bosom of his doublet, and, in doing so, touched mademoiselle’s trinket and remembered that it was to be returned to her. In the anxiety of Monsieur’s capture and the subsequent events, he had forgotten it, and now he hastened to seek its fair owner to restore her property. He was not sorry for this excuse to explain his sudden withdrawal from the little company; he was loath to have her think that the cardinal had replaced him with another for any reason of displeasure. He knew where to find her, and lost no time in asking her permission to speak with her a moment. He sent the message by one of the pages of the household, and in a short time was admitted to the room where mademoiselle sat with her woman. She had laid aside mask and cloak, and looked pale and disturbed, and responded to his salutation coldly; it seemed to him that she had repented of her outburst of frankness in regard to Monsieur.