Ninon looked at him angrily, still holding out the watch.
“You are a fool, man!” she said harshly. “Mademoiselle means to help you; ’tis a passport that may save your neck at Brussels.”
Péron looked at her in astonishment.
“I have the less desire to wear it,” he said; “mademoiselle and I do not belong to the same party.”
But Ninon was not to be put off.
“I swear to you that there is no harm in the symbol,” she said boldly; “mademoiselle is no traitress. Without this, you may meet with many a mischance. Take it or leave it, as you will, but she will not soon forgive you if you suspect her of evil intentions.”
He took it, not without reluctance, but he was not willing to appear afraid of a bauble.
“Tell your mistress that I take it, for her sake,” he said, “and I thank her for the thought of me; but it is ever my habit to trust to my sword rather than to tokens for my safety.”
“I will take the message,” Ninon said, “but look well to the trinket; if you lose it, you may lose your life;” and with that she turned her back on him and returned to her mistress.
More disturbed than ever and greatly perplexed, Péron mounted his horse and returned to Paris to make preparations for his journey and to secure a fresh horse, that he might start before nightfall for the French frontier. The errand, though a perilous one, was not without its charms, and he had no greater responsibility now than his personal safety. How mademoiselle and her woman had divined his destination, he could not imagine. He felt sure that this errand was in some mysterious manner connected with the events of the previous days. The presence of the queen-mother at Brussels and the capture of Monsieur at Poissy, pointed to some relation between the two errands, but all this did not furnish him with a clew to the manner in which Renée de Nançay had divined his mission. If it was as easily discovered by others, it was likely to be fraught with many dangers; but this only increased his relish for it.