entinois.

"Yes."

"You will kindly make the necessary arrangements at once, monsieur--and
the Queen's guards will supply the escort. Monsieur de Lorgnac and I
accompany madame."

And with that I left them, Crequy staring after me in open-mouthed
amaze.

CHAPTER XXX

FONTAINEBLEAU

"Where are we? Will this road never end?"

The voice of La Valentinois cut sharply into the warm, moonlit night;
and De Lorgnac, who was standing near the window of the coach, answered:

"We are at the end of the plain of La Brie, madame, and have stopped to
change your horses and breathe ours."

From over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of a beautiful, sullen face,
and La Valentinois sank back again amongst her cushions, where we left
her to her thoughts--such thoughts they must have been!

It was the first time she had spoken since we left the Louvre, whilst
all the bells of Paris were chiming vespers. She had uttered never a
word of protest, even when her Syrian was prevented from accompanying
her, with the meaning order: "By the Queen's command!" and through the
hours, as the coach, drawn by four horses at a gallop, jolted and swung
over the weary road, she lay back, still as a stone, her eyes closed as
if she slept.

Now and again as I rode by her window I had glanced into the coach; but
never was there any change in her position, and it was only when we
halted at the post-house that her pent-up fury broke out into an angry
question, to relapse at once into an air of frozen indifference.

The escort had dismounted, and stood with their horses in two dark
groups in the front and in the rear of the coach. There was hurry and
stir in the post-house at the unexpected coming of the great Duchess;
and De Lorgnac and I, having given our horses to a trooper to hold,
paced slowly together to and fro, now and again exchanging a word.

Suddenly, almost in answer to the thoughts that moved me, he stopped,
and putting a hand to my shoulder, said:

"Look you, Orrain! The game is not yet won. She has a last card."

"I feel that. It is what I think."

"If she plays on the King's madness for her she may win all,
unless----" And he put down his hand, and hesitated.

"Unless what?"

"The gossip is true that the King bitterly regrets the infamous grant
he made to her, and would give his right hand to escape from his word."

"Le Brusquet is certain of it. He was there when the grant was made,
if you remember."

"In t