you saw?”
“A man spying all about and who at last stopped at her door.”
“Was he alone?”
“Yes, at first. Afterwards he was joined by another, with a lantern in his hand.”
“Ah!”
“Then they began to talk together, and at last, tired of waiting, I went away. And before I venture into the house where I might be killed – ”
“You would like one of your friends to try it.”
“They would not have my enemies, nor run the same risk; and then they might report to me – ”
“In your place I would give up this woman.”
“No, she is too beautiful.”
“You said you hardly saw her.”
“I saw her enough to distinguish splendid blonde hair, magnificent eyes, and such a complexion!”
“Ah! ah!”
“You understand! one does not easily renounce such a woman.”
“No, I feel for you.”
“You jest.”
“No, on my word, and the proof is, that if you will give me my instructions, I will watch this evening.”
“You retract your decision?”
“There is no one but the pope infallible; now tell me what I am to do.”
“You will have to hide a little way off, and if a man enter, follow him to find out who he is?”
“But if, in entering, he close the door behind him?”
“I told you I had a key.”
“Ah! true; then there is only one more thing to fear, that I should follow a wrong man to a wrong door.”
“You cannot mistake; this door is the door of an alley, and at the end of the alley there is a staircase; mount twelve steps, and you will be in a corridor.”
“How do you know all this, if you have never been in?”
“Did I not tell you I had gained over the servant? She told me all.”
“Mon Dieu! how convenient it is to be a prince. I should have had to find out all for myself, which would have taken me an enormous time, and I might have failed after all.”
“Then you consent?”
“Can I refuse your highness? But will you come with me to show me the house?”
“Useless; as we return from the chase, we will make a detour, and pass through the Porte St. Antoine, and I will point it out to you.”
“Very well, and what am I to do to the man if he comes?”
“Only follow him till you learn who he is. I leave to you your mode of action. And not a word to any one.”
“No, on my honor.”
“And you will go alone?”
“Quite.”
“Well, then, it is settled; I show you the door on our way home; then you come with me, and I give you the key.” Bussy and the prince then rejoined the rest. The king was charmed with the manner in which M. de Monsoreau had conducted the chase.
“Monseigneur,” then said M. de Monsoreau to the duke, “I owe my place and these compliments to you.”
“But you know that you must go to-night to Fontainebleau, where the king will hunt to-morrow and the day after.”
“I know, monseigneur; I am prepared to start to-night.”
“Ah, M. de Monsoreau, there is no more rest for you,” said Bussy, “you wished to be chief huntsman, and you are so, and now you will have at least fifty nights’ rest less than other men. Luckily you are not married.”
At this joke, Monsoreau’s face was covered once more with that hideous paleness which gave to him so sinister an aspect.
CHAPTER XII.
HOW BUSSY FOUND BOTH THE PORTRAIT AND THE ORIGINAL
The chase terminated about four o’clock in the evening, and at five all the court returned to Paris. As they passed by the Bastile, the duke said to Bussy, “Look to the right, at that little wooden house with a statue of the Virgin before it; well, count four houses from that. It is the fifth you have to go to, just fronting the Rue St. Catherine.”
“I see it; and look! at the sound of the trumpets announcing the king, all the windows are filled with gazers.”
“Except the one I show you, where the curtains remain closed.”
“But there is a corner lifted,” said Bussy, with a beating heart.
“Yes, but we can see nothing. The lady is well guarded. However, that is the house.”
When Bussy returned, he said to Rémy, “Have you discovered the house?”
“No, monseigneur.”
“Well, I believe I have been more lucky.”
“How so, monsieur, have you been seeking?”
“I passed through the street.”
“And you recognized the house?”
“Providence, my dear friend, has mysterious ways.”
“Then you are sure?”
“Not sure, but I hope.”
“And when shall I know if you are right?”
“To-morrow morning.”
“Meanwhile, do you want me?”
“No, my dear Rémy.”
“Shall I not follow you?”
“Impossible.”
“Be prudent, monseigneur.”
“Ah! the recommendation is useless, my prudence is well known.”
Bussy dined like a man who does not know when he will sup, then, at eight o’clock, choosing the best of his swords, and attaching, in spite of the king’s orders, a pair of pistols to his belt, went in his litter to the corner of the Rue St. Paul.
He easily recognized the house again, and then, wrapped in his cloak, hid at the corner of the street, determined to wait for two hours, and at the end of that time, if no one came, to act for himself. He had scarcely been there ten minutes, when he saw two cavaliers coming. One of them dismounted, gave his horse to the other, who was probably a lackey, and who went away with the
