I deemed it best to go from the vicinity of the Louvre at once, and I did so, with a last wistful look at the windows behind which Mlle. d'Arency might or might not be reposing. I did not reappear there until the next morning. The first person I then met was Malerain, who was coming from the church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, where he had been making up for previous neglect of devotions.
"Well," I said, as I stood before him, and twisted my up-shooting mustaches, in unconscious imitation of him, "I trust you found your quarter on duty last night an easy one. You must thank me for saving you some labor."
"What do you mean?" he asked, with a look of sudden interest.
"Nothing, only that you might have been called on to give chase to some flying bird or other, if I had not knocked down a rascal who was running to inform the guard."
"And you saw the bird fly?" he said, with increasing astonishment.
"From an opening in that great cage," I replied, looking towards the Louvre.
"Then I, for myself, am glad you knocked down the said rascal who would have made falçons of us to bring the bird down. But be more cautious. Suppose what you did should reach the ears of the King?"
"Why should the King concern himself?"
"Monsieur, is it possible that you don't know that the bird that flew from the Louvre last night was the Duke of Anjou?"
It was now my turn to stare in astonishment.