"Well, in any case, I know nothing about it," I replied. "I am not hiding her. You may tell his Majesty that, with my service. Or I will write it."
He answered me, eagerly, that that was not necessary, and that the King had desired merely a word from me; and with that and many other expressions of regret, he went away and left me at leisure to go to the riding-school, where at this time of the year it was my wont to see the young men practise those manly arts, which, so far as I can judge, are at a lower ebb in these modern days of quips and quodlibets than in the stirring times of my youth. Then, thank God, it was held more necessary for a page to know his seven points of horsemanship than how to tie a ribbon, or prank a gown, or read a primer.
But the first day of this year was destined to be a day of vexation. I had scarcely entered the school, when M. de Varennes was announced. Instead of going to meet him I bade them bring him to me, and, on seeing him, bade him welcome to the sports. "Though," I said, politely overlooking his past history and his origin, "we did better in our times; yet the young fellows should be encouraged."
"Very true," he answered, suavely. "And I wish I could stay with you. But it was not for pleasure I came. The King sent me. He desires to know—"
"What?" I said.
"If you know anything of Mademoiselle D'Oyley. Between ourselves, M. le Duc—"
I looked at him in amazement. "Why," I said, "what on earth has the girl done now?"
"Disappeared," he answered.
"But she had done that before."
"Yes," he said, "and the King had your message. But—"