ning my pity I held my tongue; she would have only wonder and
mockery for it. But I think she was vexed to see me so unmoved; it irks
a woman to lose a man, however little she may have prized him when he
was her own. Nor do I mean to say that we are different from their sex
in that; it is, I take it, nature in woman and man alike.

"At least we're friends, Simon," she said with a laugh. "And at least
we're Protestants." She laughed again. I looked up with a questioning
glance. "And at least we both hate the French," she continued.

"It's true; I have no love for them. What then? What can we do?"

She looked round cautiously, and, coming a little nearer to me,
whispered:

"Late last night I had a visitor, one who doesn't love me greatly. What
does that matter? We row now in the same boat. I speak of the Duke of
Buckingham."

"He is reconciled to my Lord Arlington by Madame's good offices," said
I. For so the story ran in the Castle.

"Why, yes, he's reconciled to Arlington as the dog to the cat when their
master is by. Now there's a thing that the Duke suspects; and there's
another thing that he knows. He suspects that this treaty touches more
than war with the Dutch; though that I hate, for war swallows the King's
money like a well."

"Some passes the mouth of the well, if report speaks true," I observed.

"Peace, peace! Simon, the treaty touches more."

"A man need not be Duke nor Minister to suspect that," said I.

"Ah, you suspect? The King's religion?" she whispered.

I nodded; the secret was no surprise to me, though I had not known
whether Buckingham were in it.

"And what does the Duke of Buckingham know?" I asked.

"Why, that the King sometimes listens to a woman's counsel," said she,
nodding her head and smiling very wisely.

"Prodigious sagacity!" I cried. "You told him that, may be?"

"Indeed, he had learnt it before my day, Master Simon. Therefore, should
the King turn Catholic, he will be a better Catholic for the society of
a Catholic lady. Now this Madame--how do you name her?"

"Mlle. de Querouaille?"

"Aye. She is a most devout Catholic. Indeed, her devotion to her
religion knows no bounds. It's like mine to the King. Don't frown,
Simon. Loyalty is a virtue."

"And piety also, by the same rule, and in the same unstinted measure?" I
asked bitterly.

"Beyond doubt, sir. But the French King has sent word from Calais----"

"Oh, from Calais! The Duke revealed that to you?" I asked wit