THE VALOIS SAGA: Queen Margot, Chicot de Jester & The Forty-Five Guardsmen (Historical Novels). Alexandre Dumas

replied d’Alençon. “But when shall I have an answer?”

      De Mouy looked at the prince in silence. Then apparently coming to a decision:

      “Monseigneur,” said he, “give me your hand. I must have the hand of a son of France touch mine to make sure that I shall not be betrayed.”

      The duke not only extended his hand towards De Mouy, but grasped De Mouy’s and pressed it.

      “Now, monseigneur, I am satisfied,” said the young Huguenot. “If we were betrayed I should say that you had nothing to do with it; otherwise, monseigneur, however slightly you might be concerned in the treason, you would be dishonored.”

      “Why do you say that to me, De Mouy, before telling me that you will bring me the answer from your leaders?”

      “Because, monseigneur, asking me when you would have your answer was the same as asking me where are the leaders, and because if I said to you, ‘This evening,’ you would know that the chiefs were hiding in Paris.” As he uttered these words, with a gesture of mistrust, De Mouy fixed his piercing glance on the false vacillating eyes of the young man.

      “Well, well,” said the duke, “you still have doubts, Monsieur de Mouy. But I cannot expect entire confidence from you at first. You will understand me better later. We shall be bound by common interests which will rid you of all suspicion. You say this evening, then, Monsieur de Mouy?”

      “Yes, monseigneur, for time presses. Until this evening. But where shall I see you, if you please?”

      “At the Louvre, here in this room; does that suit you?”

      “Is this occupied?” said De Mouy, glancing at the two beds opposite each other.

      “By two of my gentlemen, yes.”

      “Monseigneur, it seems to me imprudent to return to the Louvre.”

      “Why so?”

      “Because if you have recognized me, others also may have as good eyes as your highness, and may recognize me. However, I will return to the Louvre if you will grant me what I am about to ask of you.”

      “What is that?”

      “A passport.”

      “A passport from me found on you would ruin me and would not save you. I can do nothing for you unless in the eyes of the world we are strangers to each other; the slightest relation between us, noticed by my mother or my brother, would cost me my life. You were therefore protected by my interest for myself from the moment I compromised myself with the others, as I am now compromising myself with you. Free in my sphere of action, strong if I am unknown, so long as I myself remain impenetrable, I will guarantee you everything. Do not forget this. Make a fresh appeal to your courage, therefore. Try on my word of honor what you tried without the word of honor of my brother. Come this evening to the Louvre.”

      “But how do you wish me to come? I can not venture in these rooms in my present uniform — it is for the vestibules and the courts. My own is still more dangerous, since everyone knows me here, and since it in no way disguises me.”

      “Therefore I will look — wait — I think that — yes, here it is.”

      The duke had looked around him, and his eyes stopped at La Mole’s clothes, thrown temporarily on the bed; that is, on the magnificent cherry-colored cloak embroidered in gold, of which we have already spoken; on a cap ornamented with a white plume surrounded by a rope of gold and silver marguerites, and finally on a pearl-gray satin and gold doublet.

      “Do you see this cloak, this plume, and this doublet?” said the duke; “they belong to Monsieur de la Mole, one of my gentlemen, a fop of the highest type. The cloak was the rage at court, and when he wore it, Monsieur de la Mole was recognized a hundred feet away. I will give you the address of the tailor who made it for him. By paying him double what it is worth, you will have one exactly like it by this evening. You will remember the name of Monsieur de la Mole, will you not?”

      Scarcely had the Duc d’Alençon finished making the suggestion, when a step was heard approaching in the corridor, and a key was turned in the lock.

      “Who is that?” cried the duke, rushing to the door and drawing the bolt.

      “By Heaven!” replied a voice from outside; “I find that a strange question. Who are you yourself? This is pleasant! I return to my own room, and am asked who I am!”

      “Is it you, Monsieur de la Mole?”

      “Yes, it is I, without a doubt. But who are you?”

      While La Mole was expressing his surprise at finding his room occupied, and while he was trying to discover its new occupant, the Duc d’Alençon turned quickly, one hand on the lock, the other on the key.

      “Do you know Monsieur de la Mole?” he asked of De Mouy.

      “No, monseigneur.”

      “Does he know you?”

      “I think not.”

      “In that case it will be all right. Appear to be looking out of the window.”

      De Mouy obeyed in silence, for La Mole was beginning to grow impatient, and was knocking on the door with all his might.

      The Duc d’Alençon threw a last glance towards De Mouy, and seeing that his back was turned, he opened the door.

      “Monseigneur le Duc!” cried La Mole, stepping back in surprise. “Oh, pardon, pardon, monseigneur!”

      “It is nothing, monsieur; I needed your room to receive a visitor.”

      “Certainly, monseigneur, certainly. But allow me, I beg you, to take my cloak and hat from the bed, for I lost both to-night on the quay of the Grève, where I was attacked by robbers.”

      “In fact, monsieur,” said the prince, smiling, himself handing to La Mole the articles asked for, “you are very poorly accommodated here. You have had an encounter with some very obstinate fellows, apparently!”

      The duke handed to La Mole the cloak and the hat. The young man bowed and withdrew to the antechamber to change his clothes, paying no attention to what the duke was doing in his room; for it was an ordinary occurrence at the Louvre for the rooms of the gentlemen to be used as reception-rooms by the prince to whom the latter were attached.

      De Mouy then approached the duke, and both listened for La Mole to finish and go out; but when the latter had changed his clothes, he himself saved them all further trouble by drawing near to the door.

      “Pardon me, monseigneur,” said he, “but did your highness meet the Count de Coconnas on your way?”

      “No, count, and yet he was at service this morning.”

      “In that case they will assassinate me,” said La Mole to himself as he went away.

      The duke heard the noise of his retreating steps; then opening the door and drawing De Mouy after him:

      “Watch him going away,” said he, “and try to copy his inimitable walk.”

      “I will do my best,” replied De Mouy. “Unfortunately I am not a lady’s man, but a soldier.”

      “At all events I shall expect you in this corridor before midnight. If the chamber of my gentlemen is free, I will receive you there; if not, we will find another.”

      “Yes, monseigneur.”

      “Until this evening then, before midnight.”

      “Until this evening, before midnight.”

      “Ah! by the way, De Mouy, swing your right arm a good deal as you walk. This is a peculiar trick of Monsieur de la Mole’s.”

      Chapter 24.

       The Rue Tizon and the Rue Cloche Percée.