e we proceeded at once to Le Brusquet's
apartments, where he received a joyous welcome from his ape.

"Here," he said, as he put the little beast down and took a sword from
the wall, "here is the sword you lent me that night. You see it is
clean and sharp as ever."

"Let it remain, then, in your hands, monsieur, as a trifling
remembrance of Bertrand d'Orrain."

"I thank you! I shall guard it as it should be guarded. _Corbleu_!
but it was a narrow affair that night; but for you Vendome might be
wearing wings now, and the house of Besme extinct as the Sphinga."

"It was a lucky chance. I suppose that old fox Camus still has his
lair in the same place? I wonder what made him turn against me as he
did----"

"Oh, Camus is like a dog that loves biting, a dog that would bite his
own master in default of anyone else. Yes; he is there still. As for
his turning on you, that is part of his duty; he has been for years a
paid servant of Diane."

"How long is this woman to last?"

"As long as her roses. But they say those are fadeless; and Saint
Gelais has had to leave the Court in fear of his life for swearing that
she keeps them ever fresh by daily bathing her face in sow's milk."
And he laughed as he added: "But come, now, it is time to be moving."

We were soon in the long gallery leading to the Queen's apartments;
but, instead of the darkness and gloom that pervaded it on the occasion
of my last visit, all was in light. Cressets burned everywhere, and at
every few yards stood a flambeau-bearer, his torch alight. The vaulted
roof above us was dim with the smoke that rose from the torches, and
there was everywhere the subdued murmur of voices, as people passed and
repassed, or stood in small knots conversing. So great was the change
that I could not avoid noticing it; and Le Brusquet explained that it
was always so when any of the royal children, who lived at St.
Germain-en-Laye, visited the Queen. He had just said this when we
rounded the abrupt curve the gallery made, and came face to face with
two men walking arm-in-arm in the direction opposite to that we were
taking. They were Simon and De Ganache, and recognition was mutual and
instant. Monsieur de Ganache saw the surprised look on my face, which
he no doubt read, as I glanced from him to my brother; and lifting his
hat in a half-defiant, half-shamefaced manner, would have passed on,
but Simon held him by the arm, and planting himself right in our path