"La Beauce, put this on my table." And then turning to me, said, with a laugh:
"Your ears should be tingling, monsieur, for the last hour or so there has been nothing but you talked of by my maids-of-honour. It seems that the cock of Orrain has not forgotten the use of his spurs."
My tongue had long since forgotten such courtier tricks as it had learned. In truth, it was never good at these; and whilst I was casting about for something to say, and wishing myself well away from the ring of faces that circled me in, a gay, laughing voice broke in:
"But where is the heroine, madame? Where is Diane of the Forest? She should thank her preserver before your Majesty." And Mary of Scotland, heedless and blithe of heart, made me a mock little courtesy as she moved to the Queen's side.
"Here she is," cried twenty voices; "she has been hiding here." And, before I knew how it was, I found myself face to face with mademoiselle.
"Thank him! thank him!" the reckless voices around us began to shout; and, as I stood fumbling about, mademoiselle, with a face like fire, made me a stiff bow, and was about to step back, when our chief tormentor called out:
"Oh, how poor a thanksgiving! Surely this is a fit case for a Court of Love!—how and in what way a fair lady should greet her knight after a parlous quest?"
"Madame"—and Mary of Scotland knelt before the Queen—"you will hold a
Court now, will you not?"
"O gai! O gai!" And there was a chorus of laughter and cheers.
Where all this foolery might have ended Heaven knows. The Queen herself seemed to be enjoying it, and was about to make some reply to Mary, when there was a bustle at the door, and an usher called out: