"Fly, fly, I tell you! You would compromise me, were you to remain," repeated the Duke. "Every moment endangers our safety."
"If such be your command," replied La Mole coldly, "rather than sacrifice a little of your honour, I will fly."
"They will be here shortly," continued Alençon hurriedly. "Here, take this cloak—this jewelled hat. They are well known to be mine. Wrap the cloak about you. Disguise your height—your gait. They will take you for me. The corridors are obscure—you may cross the outer court undiscovered—and once in safety, you will join our friends. Away—away!"
La Mole obeyed his master's bidding, but without the least appearance of haste or fear.
"And I would have made that man a king!" he murmured to himself, as, dressed in the Duke's cloak and hat, he plunged into the tortuous and gloomy corridors of the Louvre. "That man a king! Ambition made me mad. Ay! worse than mad—a fool!"
The Duke of Alençon watched anxiously from his window, which dominated the outer court of the Louvre, for the appearance of that form, enveloped in his cloak; and when he saw La Mole pass unchallenged the gate leading without, he turned away from the window with an exclamation of satisfaction.
A minute afterwards the agents of the Queen-mother entered his apartment.