A few days later we saw the cliffs of Chateaudon, from whose heights the stronghold of Dunois looks down upon the town crouching beneath. On arrival we found a lodging in the little square below the castle, and here I thought it necessary to call a halt for a couple of days. Thus far our journey to Paris had been free from serious misadventure; but I was full of fears, for I knew not what folly De Ganache might commit in his madness, and the evil phantom of Simon was ever grinning over my shoulder. I, therefore, judged it prudent to write to Le Brusquet, begging him to inform the Queen how far I had come; and, as difficulties might arise in regard to my entry into Paris, I suggested that mademoiselle should be met by an escort either at Etampes or Montlhéry; and, commending myself to his friendship, begged the favour of his losing no time in aiding me in this matter. This letter I entrusted to Capus, bidding him meet me with the answer at Etampes, where he would find me at the Toison d'Or.
As soon as mademoiselle, chiefly upon whose account I had halted, was sufficiently rested to continue the journey we started once more, and quitting the vine country entered the smiling Beauce. It was towards the end of June, and our way led through the granary of France, with its long green reaches of meadow and rich cornland. Here, under the clear blue of the sky, and in an air like crystal, stretched endless fields of corn, swaying gently in the gentle breeze, and chequered with vivid patches of blue cornflower and red poppy. After the seared plains of Poitou the freshness, the peace, and the plenty around us struck us in convincing contrast, nor could I help thinking what a little it would take to make the sad Poitevin plain smile like this.
We travelled by easy stages, reaching Etampes about the sixth day, and here, on arrival at the Toison d'Or, I was disappointed to get no news of Capus. There was nothing for it but to wait, and a few days passed pleasantly enough in the curious old town. One incident that occurred is, perhaps, worthy of notice. Almost opposite our inn was a forbidding-looking house, without arms or escutcheon of any kind upon the gate. To all appearance it was uninhabited, but from the balcony of the inn mademoiselle and I observed a lady dressed in black who daily paced for an hour or so on the terrace overlooking the garden of the house. We could not distinguish her features, for she was ever closely veiled, but her attitude and mien marked the deepest dejection. To the idle all things are of interest, and our curiosity was excited; so on one occasion, as the lady paced mournfully on the terrace, mademoiselle asked the landlord who she was.
"That, mademoiselle, is the Duchess herself."
"The Duchess!"
"Yes, mademoiselle; the Duchess d'Etampes. She has lived here in the strictest seclusion ever since the late King's death. She receives no one, and yet for miles around she is blessed for her charity. 'Tis said, however," and he dropped his voice, "that she is a Christaudin; but of this I know nothing."
And so this sad, dark-robed spectre was the once brilliant and beautiful De Helly! I went back in my mind to the gay days when she reigned as queen. It was not so long ago, and I could recall all that throng of syrens. There was Canaples, star of the morning; the lovely St. Pol, star of the evening; Rieux, Tallard, Lestrange; but one only of that galaxy was left, the loveliest and the worst—Diane, whom men called the crescent moon. For her I wondered what fate was in store.
The next day, towards sunset, mademoiselle and I were once again upon the balcony of the inn, when I saw a horseman trotting past the parvis of St. Martin. I was sure it was Capus, and my doubts were soon at rest, for as he rounded the corner and came up the Rue St. Jacques I saw it was he, and signalled to him. He lifted his arm in the air in answer to my signal, and spurring his beast drew up a minute or so after at the door of the inn.
"What news, Capus?" I called out; and he waved a letter that he held in his hand. Making an excuse to mademoiselle I ran down to meet him, and soon had Le Brusquet's letter in my hands. He had done as I asked, and we were to be met at Longpont, near Montlhéry; and in a postscript he added that Olden Hoorn had sent him the two hundred crowns I had asked for from Poitiers—a piece of news not without interest to me. When I had finished Capus said:
"I came with the escort, monsieur, as far as Montlhéry. It is commanded by the Sieur de Lorgnac. There are ten lances and two court ladies and a dozen or so of sumpter horses—a brave show. They all lie at the priory at Longpont."