“But,” she said softly, looking in his face, “the change is sudden, is it not? The King was not wont to be so good to us!”
“The King was not King until now,” he answered warmly. “That is what I am trying to persuade our people. Believe me, Mademoiselle, you may sleep without fear; and early in the morning I will be with you. Carlat, have a care of your mistress until morning, and let Madame lie in her chamber. She is nervous to-night. There, sweet, until morning! God keep you, and pleasant dreams!”
He uncovered, and bowing over her hand, kissed it; and the door being open he would have turned away. But she lingered as if unwilling to enter.
“There is—do you hear it—a stir in that quarter?” she said, pointing across the Rue St. Honoré. “What lies there?”
“Northward? The markets,” he answered. “’Tis nothing. They say, you know, that Paris never sleeps. Good night, sweet, and a fair awakening!”
She shivered as she had shivered under Tavannes’ eye. And still she lingered, keeping him.
“Are you going to your lodging at once?” she asked—for the sake, it seemed, of saying something.
“I?” he answered a little hurriedly. “No, I was thinking of paying Rochefoucauld the compliment of seeing him home. He has taken a new lodging to be near the Admiral; a horrid bare place in the Rue Bethizy, without furniture, but he would go into it to-day. And he has a sort of claim on my family, you know.”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Of course. Then I must not detain you. God keep you safe,” she continued, with a faint quiver in her tone; and her lip trembled. “Good night, and fair dreams, Monsieur.”
He echoed the words gallantly. “Of you, sweet!” he cried; and turning away with a gesture of farewell, he set off on his return.