"It did in this instance, my lord. The man, who is in the pay of Monseigneur, has since proved a faithful friend in connexion with my private affairs. I owe him my life. He is, I believe deep in the secrets of his party, but these he has never revealed, and I have never asked him."
"Quite right," observed the Admiral.
"Since the death of Queen Joan, my sister has lived in Paris with the Countess Guichy. Last night this strange friend of mine advised me with the utmost earnestness to have her conveyed to Rochelle. He gave me no reason, but from his manner I am sure he fears something terrible is about to happen. 'Invent what excuse you like,' said he, 'but to-morrow morning send Jacques'—that is my servant—'to Rochelle in charge of your sister, and let him make no delay on the road.' There must be some grave reason for his advice, my lord."
"You have no doubt of this man's friendship?"
"Not a shadow of doubt; he has proved it to the hilt."
"Then your sister must leave Paris promptly, and she shall carry a letter from me to the commandant. That will furnish an excuse for her hurried departure. I will write it immediately."
"But, my lord," I said hesitatingly, for it ever required some courage to hint that he should take measures for his personal safety, "it is of the possible peril to yourself I am thinking."
"I do not believe there is any danger," he replied; "but I am in the hands of God, Le Blanc. If He, in His wisdom, and for His own good purpose, wills that I should die at my post, I am content. Now, Des Pruneaux shall write the letter, and after breakfast you shall take it to your sister."
I went out, and writing a note to Jeanne, bidding her get ready for an early start, sent it off by Jacques.
"I wonder," said Felix, "if your friend's warning has anything to do with the king's fresh move. Last night twelve hundred of the guards marched into Paris, and are quartered near the Louvre."