'Not yet,' I smiled; 'and is Madame de Belin in Paris?'

'Diable! and he made a wry face. 'Come up to my den, and I'll tell you everything. Vallon, you grinning ape, fetch a flask of our old Chambertin—I will show M. le Chevalier up myself.'

And linking me by the arm, he led me up the stairway, and along a noble corridor hung on each side with the richest tapestry, until we reached a carved door that opened into the rooms in the turret.

'Here we are,' Belin said, as we entered. 'I find that when Madame is away these rooms are enough for me. Tiens! How a woman's presence can fill a house. Sit down there! And here comes Vallon. Set the wine down there, Vallon, and leave us.'

He poured out a full measure for me, then one for himself, and stretched himself out in an armchair, facing me. I always liked the man, with his gay cynicism—if I may use the phrase—his kind heart and his reckless life; and I knew enough to tell that if Madame la Comptesse had been a little more forbearing she might have moulded her husband as she willed.

'Belin,' I said,' I am so old a friend, I know you will forgive me for asking why, if you miss Madame's presence, you do not have her here?'

'Oh, she has got one of her fits, and has gone to grow pears at Belin. It was all through that fool Vallon.'

'Vallon!'

'Yes. Bassompierre, de Vitry, myself, and one or two others, had arranged a little supper, with cards to follow, at More's. You don't know More's, but I'll take you there. Well, to continue: I had gone through about three weeks of my own fireside before this arrangement was made, and longed to stretch my legs a little. To tell Sophie would only cause a discussion. It is as much as I can do to get her to the Louvre accompanied by myself. So when the evening arrived I pleaded urgent business over my steward's accounts, and, giving orders that I was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, came here to my study, a duplicate key to the door of which Sophie keeps. I put Vallon in that chair there before the writing-table, after having made him throw on my robe-de-chambre, and gave him instructions to wave his hand in token that he was not to be disturbed if Madame la Comptesse came in, and, after thoroughly drilling the rascal, vanished by the private stair—the entrance to that is just behind my wife's portrait there.'

'And then?'