"But to what part of France. Does monseigneur think it prudent to return to court?"
"No; I shall stop at one of my castles, Chateau-Thierry, for example."
"Has your highness decided on that?"
"Yes; Chateau-Thierry suits me in all respects; it is a good distance from Paris, about twenty-eight leagues, and I can watch from thence MM.
de Guise, who are half the year at Soissons. So bring the beautiful unknown to Chateau-Thierry."
"But, monsieur, perhaps she will not be brought."
"Nonsense; since Du Bouchage accompanies me, and she follows him, it will be quite natural."
"But she may wish to go somewhere else, if she sees that I wish to bring her to you."
"But I repeat that it is not to me that you are to bring her, but to the comte. Really, one would think it was the first time you had aided me in such circ.u.mstances. Have you money?"
"I have the two rouleaux of gold that you gave me when you left the camp."
"Well, by any and every method, bring me the lady to Chateau-Thierry; perhaps when I see her nearer I shall recognize her."
"And the man also?"
"Yes; if he is not troublesome."
"But if he is?"
"Do with him what you would do with a stone which is in your way--throw it away."
"Good, monseigneur."
While the two conspirators formed their plans, Henri went up and woke Remy. He knocked at the door in a peculiar fashion, and it was almost immediately opened by Diana. Behind Remy she perceived Henri.
"Good-evening, monsieur," said she, with a smile which had long been foreign to her face.
"Oh! pardon me, madame," said Henri, "for intruding on you; but I come to make my adieux."
"Your adieux, comte; you are going?"
"To France, madame."
"And you leave us?"
"I am forced to do so; my duty is to obey the prince."
"The prince; is there a prince here?" asked Remy.
"Yes, M. le Duc d"Anjou, who was believed dead, and who has been miraculously saved, has joined us."
Diana uttered a terrible cry, and Remy turned as pale as though he had been suddenly struck with death.
"The Duc d"Anjou living!" cried Diana. "The Duc d"Anjou here?"
"Had he not been here, madame, and ordered me to follow him, I should have accompanied you to the convent into which you tell me you are about to retire."
"Yes, yes," said Remy; "the convent;" and he put his finger on his lip.
"I would have accompanied you the more willingly, madame." said Henri; "because I fear that you may be annoyed by the prince"s people."--"How so?"
"Yes; I believe that he knows there is a lady here, and he thinks that she is a friend of mine."
"And what makes you think so?"
"Our young ensign saw him place a ladder against this window and look in."
"Oh!" cried Diana; "mon Dieu! mon Dieu!"
"Rea.s.sure yourself, madame! he heard him say that he did not know you.
Besides, the duke is going to set off at once--in a quarter of an hour you will be alone and free. Permit me to salute you with respect, and to tell you once more, that till my last sigh, my heart will beat for you and with you. Adieu, madame, adieu." And the comte, bowing, took two steps back.
"No, no!" cried Diana, wildly, "no, G.o.d cannot have done this! He cannot have brought this man to life again; no, monsieur, you must be wrong, he is dead."
At this moment, as if in reply, the duke"s voice was heard calling from below:
"Comte, we are waiting for you."
"You hear him, madame," said Henri. "For the last time, adieu."
And pressing Remy"s hand, he flew down the staircase. Diana approached the window trembling, and with a convulsive shudder, like the bird fascinated by the serpent of the Antilles. She saw the duke on horseback, and the light of the torches held by the gendarmes fell on his face.
"Oh! he lives! the demon lives!" murmured she; "and we must live also.
He is setting out for France; so be it, Remy, we also must go to France."
CHAPTER LXXV.
HOW AURILLY EXECUTED THE COMMISSION OF THE DUC D"ANJOU.
To the confusion occasioned by the departure of the troops a profound silence succeeded. When Remy believed the house to be empty, he went down to prepare for his departure and that of Diana; but on opening the door of the room below, he was much surprised to see a man sitting by the fire, evidently watching him, although he pretended to look careless. Remy approached, according to his custom, with a slow, halting step, and uncovering his head, bald like that of an old man. He could not, however, see the features of the man by the fire.
"Pardon, monsieur," said he, "I thought myself alone here."
"I also thought so," replied the man, "but I see with pleasure that I shall have companions."
"Oh! very sad companions, monsieur; for except an invalid young man whom I am taking back to France--"
"Ah!" said Aurilly, "I know whom you mean."