arely light when we sat
down to breakfast, and the ladies shivered on going into the cold air,
but the carriage was comfortable, and, when the leathern coverings were
drawn down, warm.

"Decidedly an improvement on the open cart," exclaimed Madame Coutance,
as she leaned back against the cushions. "We ought to reach Aunay
before nightfall."

I earnestly hoped we should, as I was becoming uneasy concerning Le
Tellier's note. However, as nothing could be done until the ladies
were placed in safety, I endeavoured to dismiss the subject from my
mind, and to appear as pleasant as possible. There is no need to
linger over the details of the journey. We stopped two or three times
for food and rest, and at one place to change the horses, but we met
with no adventure of any kind, and arrived at the chateau about three
o'clock, quite two hours sooner than I had dared to hope.

"Home again," said Marie softly, as we entered the hall, "and I hope it
will be long before we leave it."

"Not until the prince rides triumphantly into Paris!" exclaimed her
aunt. "Why do you smile, M. de Lalande? The prince has already beaten
Mazarin, and he will make short work of the rest."

"Very likely, madame," I said, not wishing to be drawn into an
argument, but, remembering the note in my pocket, I greatly doubted if
the Cardinal were as completely overcome as his enemies believed.

It was a difficult matter to get away from Aunay that evening. The
ladies declared I was tired, and begged me to stay until the next day,
but this, though they were not aware of it, was out of the question.
Finding at last that I was resolved to depart, Madame Coutance insisted
on my wearing a plumed hat which had belonged to her husband, and told
me to choose the best saddle-horse in her stables.

"True," said she, with a charming smile, "you are an enemy to the
prince, but I do not forget that you are also one of my best friends."

[Transcriber's note: illustration missing from book]

The scene of my departure from the chateau is still very vivid in my
memory. It was evening, and the sky flushed red with the glories of
the setting sun. From afar came the tinkling of bells, the lowing of
kine, and the chatter of the serving-men. The ladies stood on the
terrace overlooking the fine park, and as I rode off they waved their
hands in farewell, and wished me God-speed on the journey.

I was half sorry to plunge again into the strife, but the beautiful