s against an obolus that you will hear something of
interest concerning mademoiselle. She is not going to warn you about
yourself, I fancy," and he laughed; "she knows that the Chevalier
d'Orrain can look to his skin."

"But what can be the cause of Diane de Poitiers' enmity of
mademoiselle?" I asked. "So far as I know, they have only but once
seen each other, and that but three hours ago."

"The greatest of all causes, monsieur--money. Diane loves gold as a
swallow loves a fly. When a woman is avaricious she will let nothing
stand between her and her desire. Again, it is no disrespect to the
Vidame, your noble brother, to say he would sell his soul for a hundred
crowns, and Dom Antony de Mouchy is worse than either he or Diane.
Why, man, they have shared between them the wretched estate of a
journeyman tailor! The property of a street-hawker, burnt in the Place
Maubert, was granted to them, and they took it."

"It is almost incredible!" I exclaimed.

"But it is true," said De Lorgnac.

"It appears to me," I said, "that my departure for Italy will be a
little delayed."

"If you were as superstitious as I am," and Le Brusquet smiled as he
spoke, "you would say that departure is a dream of the past."

"Why?"

"_Eh bien_, a month ago, you left Paris from this very house never to
return, and here you are back again! It is my belief that your fate is
against your leaving Paris, and your game will have to be played here.
That slice of the Romagna you intended for your own helping will go to
fill another's plate."

I laughed, and De Lorgnac rose. "There is Quinte with Cartouche at the
door," he said, "and I must be off. Be at the door of the Queen's
apartments a little before compline, and so, _au revoir_!"

"We have almost an hour and a half still," said Le Brusquet, "and if it
were not safer for you to be indoors as much as possible I would
suggest spending a half-hour at the Bourgogne."

"I think it would be better to stay here; but tell me, do you know
anything definite about this design of the Duchess?"

"No. All that I know is that there is something afoot. Vieilleville
was approached; but, to his honour, refused to have anything to do with
it. I know, however, no details."

"Then all we can do at present is to wait and watch."

He nodded, and poured himself out some wine. Leaving him to sip his
Joue I retired to change my dress, and shortly after we rode out to the
Louvre. On arrival ther