"Reassure yourself, mademoiselle. It is a friend—Orrain."
"The hero!" And she clapped her hands. "Come, De Lorges." And, with a little nod to Le Brusquet, she ran to the door, followed by the page. As the two came forth she stopped.
"Monsieur d'Orrain, you will not betray us?"
"Not I, mademoiselle."
"Then as a reward I tell you there is someone you would like to see reading Marot's verses in the Queen's cabinet."
Without waiting for an answer, she tripped off down the gallery, De Lorges by her side. There was a flash of the red hood, and the two were gone.
"Enfin!" And Le Brusquet sat himself down on the coffer. "We are rid of that chattering feather-brain; but, before everything, tell me when you will be relieved."
"Within the hour."
"That will do excellently. Now for your news. Mine can keep for ten minutes."
I told him what I had learned, and he listened without a word until the end, listened seated on the coffer, with his chin resting on his knees, his long nose drooping over his mouth, and his keen little eyes shining like beads.