"Monsieur!"
"Listen! There is more yet. I but told the Queen of the arms you bore. She recognised them at once."
"That is not strange; the Vidame d'Orrain is in Paris!"
"True! But she remembered your history—every detail of it. It was long ago, and many things have happened, and the Seine there has rolled much water under its bridges since then, but she had forgotten nothing. My friend, they who say the Medicis ever forgets are fools—blind in their folly. And so, for the sake of last night, and a little for the days that have gone, we will see pretty things yet, God willing! Eh, De Lorgnac?"
"I for one look forward to the day when a brave man will come to his own," replied the other, and their kindness touched me to the quick.
I am not one gifted with the power of speech—indeed, I hold that the greater the tongue the smaller the heart—but I found words to thank these gallant gentlemen, and De Lorgnac said:
"Monsieur, it is enough thanks to hold us in your esteem, and we will say no more about it. I have, however, some information that may be useful. Your brother the Vidame left Paris this evening for the South, it is said. Thus one danger is at any rate removed from your path."
It was something to know that Simon was gone. I thanked De Lorgnac, and added:
"Now, messieurs, for my news. I know not if I have come forth from that chamber"—and I pointed behind me—"a made man or not. This much I know, I am the bearer of a letter, the delivery of which must not be delayed, and I must leave Paris with the dawn, or before—horse or no horse."
"The horses I said were my care," De Lorgnac said. And then turning to Le Brusquet: "Await me on the steps that lead to the eastern gallery; I am relieved in less than an hour. We will then take monsieur here to my house, where there are two horses in the stables at his disposal, and the rest concerns himself."