wondering what I should do in
an emergency to which the Marquis's message of the afternoon attached so
pressing a character. Had it not been for that I might have waited until
morning, and felt tolerably certain of finding mademoiselle in a more
reasonable mood then. But as it was I dared not wait. I dared not risk
the delay, and I came quickly to the conclusion that the only course
open to me was to go at once to M. de Rambouillet and tell him frankly
how the matter stood.

Maignan had posted one of his men at the open doorway leading into the
street, and fixed his own quarters on the landing at the top, whence he
could overlook an intruder without being seen himself. Satisfied with
the arrangement, I left Rambouillet's man to reinforce him, and took
with me Simon Fleix, of whose conduct in regard to mademoiselle I
entertained the gravest doubts.

The night, I found on reaching the street, was cold, the sky where it
was visible between the eaves being bright with stars. A sharp wind was
blowing, too, compelling us to wrap our cloaks round us and hurry on
at a pace which agreed well with the excitement of my thoughts. Assured
that had mademoiselle been complaisant I might have seen my mission
accomplished within the hour, it was impossible I should not feel
impatient with one who, to gratify a whim, played with the secrets of a
kingdom as if they were counters, and risked in passing ill-humour the
results of weeks of preparation. And I was impatient, and with her. But
my resentment fell so far short of the occasion that I wondered uneasily
at my own easiness, and felt more annoyed with myself for failing to be
properly annoyed with her, than inclined to lay the blame where it was
due. It was in vain I told myself contemptuously that she was a woman
and that women were not accountable. I felt that the real secret and
motive of my indulgence lay, not in this, but in the suspicion, which
her reference to the favour given me on my departure from Rosny had
converted almost into a certainty, that I was myself the cause of her
sudden ill-humour.

I might have followed this train of thought farther, and to very
pertinent conclusions. But on reaching M. de Rambouillet's lodging I
was diverted from it by the abnormally quiet aspect of the house, on the
steps of which half a dozen servants might commonly be seen lounging.
Now the doors were closed, no lights shone through the windows, and the
hall sounded empty and desolate whe