"Not now; give me twenty-four hours, brother, and then as you wish, or, rather, whether you wish or not."
"So be it," I answered, and he laughed again, bitter, mirthless laughter, and reached out for the reins of his horse; but ere he mounted he turned once more on me, another gust of anger shaking his frame.
"Look you! You think you have beaten me because you have beaten that black-eyed strumpet who bewitches the King. I tell you I hold her in the hollow of my hand, and she cannot buy from me what she has bought from you. As for you, you have stood in my way long enough; never again shall it be. Fool! think you I cannot read your soul? Think you I will let you win the prize I should have won? I promise you that, in these twenty-four hours, which will make you long for death—I, Simon of Orrain, swear it!"
With this he swung round, and, springing into the saddle, went off at a gallop, leaving me staring after him, wondering what devilry lay behind his words. I watched him till he rounded the elbow of the wood that lay without the gates, and then, sheathing my sword, went slowly towards the Horseshoe Stair.
Under other circumstances I should have looked with wonder and admiration on the magnificent pile that the splendour of the late King had erected on the old-time fortress of Louis VII, but, as it was, I paced up and down the Cour du Cheval Blanc, gazing at the wide stairway and the silent walls, every minute that passed seeming an hour to me in my impatience. At last I saw a figure at the head of the Horseshoe. It was De Lorgnac, and he beckoned to me. In a moment I was by his side.
"Have you heard anything?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"She has had three hours." And I pointed to the sun.
"You must give her time. It will be sufficient if we hear by noon."
Then I told him of Simon and his strange departure, and whilst we spoke together Carnavalet, one of the chamberlains, appeared, and walked leisurely up to us.