mistake the insult in this speech and in Simon's
manner as he made it. For a moment it was as if Vendome's hot temper
would have made him forget his rank. He raised his hand as though he
would have struck the Vidame; but those around Simon hustled him aside,
and it was in a scene of confusion that Monseigneur turned to Diane.

"I understand all this now," he said, pointing to the card-table,
covered with the scattered cards and gold, "and I know to whom I owe
this. Think not, madame, to fool me longer; but remember that all the
rivers in France will not quench the fires you have lit to-day."

Then calling to De Mouy, Albain, and others of his gentlemen he bowed
coldly to La Valentinois, and left the room amidst a dead silence.

When he had gone a babel of tongues broke forth, and there were loud
and angry cries for Le Brusquet, whose "fool's prank," as they called
it, had caused this storm. Le Brusquet, however, was not to be seen.
He had stolen in, thrown his apple of discord, and stolen forth again
like a ghost. None knew or understood better than he the wayward
character of Vendome, and that never was the prince capable of acting
with decision unless his self-love were hurt. So he had made his plan,
and acted, and now stood in the shadow of a pillar in the courtyard
waiting for the prince. He had not long to wait, for Vendome came
storming out, almost on his heels, and called for his horse. There
were quite a hundred or more gentlemen in his train, and as the horses
were being brought up Le Brusquet stepped to the side of Vendome and
held up his signet.

"Monseigneur," he said, "here is something of yours that has come back
to you."

The prince almost snatched it from him, and glanced at it by the light
of the flambeaux. One look, and he turned to Le Brusquet.

"He too!"

"Monseigneur! In the Chatelet, where La Mothe is. Forget not your
rights, Monseigneur!"

"I am not likely to! Here! A spare horse for Le Brusquet!" And he
sprang into his saddle.

Someone brought up a nag, Le Brusquet mounted, and the word being given
for the Chatelet they went out at a trot, the prince riding in front
between De Mouy and Albain, his hat pulled over his eyes, and in
silence.

Whilst all this was happening it fared ill enough with me. Though
felled by the blow on my head I was not stunned, only so dazed that my
recapture was an easy matter. This time no risks were taken, and with
my hands tied behind me b