That night we lay at the priory of Longpont; but I saw nothing of mademoiselle, for the ladies both dined and supped by themselves, leaving De Lorgnac and myself to our own devices. After supper, as we paced the garden together, De Lorgnac gave me the news of the day, mentioning, amongst other things, that Vendôme had returned to the Court once more, and that all differences between him and the Duchess de Valentinois appeared to have been buried. I glanced at the signet that I wore on my finger, Vendôme's gift to me, saying:
"That is, perhaps, the best thing that could have happened for me; but
I little dreamed that Vendôme would ever have joined hands with Diane."
"As to that," he said, "I have long ceased to be surprised at anything. Poor Le Brusquet was in disgrace for a whole day for suggesting a new device for the Duke—a weathercock on a steeple." And he laughed as he added: "The Duke came back almost a week ago, with five hundred gentlemen in his train—amongst others the late rebel De Ganache, for whom he has obtained a pardon."
"De Ganache!"
"Yes; there has been a turn of the wheel, and for the moment the new
religion is in favour. What it means I know not; but as for De
Ganache, the Court gossips are already linking his name with Diane's.
'Tis certain he is ever at her heels."
"The weathercock would suit him as well as Vendôme," I said a little bitterly; "but it is good news that even for the moment the new faith is in favour. It removes one danger, and the other is——"
"Back in Paris," interrupted De Lorgnac.
"You mean my brother?"
"Yes; the Vidame came back a trifle over a fortnight ago with an arm very much hurt and one-third of his usual following of cut-throats."
"He will not have much trouble in filling his vacancies; but is he much hurt?" And I smiled grimly to myself.