ot do this he must take the
consequences."

"Your Highness has made a mistake," I answered coldly. "Henri de
Lalande is not another Peleton. He will not purchase his life on these
terms."

Conde laughed and exclaimed, "At least you can offer him the chance.
Find out where he is hiding and deliver my message. Then he can please
himself."

Although feeling sure that Henri would refuse to avail himself of
Conde's offer, I allowed myself to be persuaded, and, before leaving
the house, agreed to report to my cousin what the prince had said.

I soon discovered that the promise was easier to make than to fulfil.
Henri had vanished, and on all hands I heard rumour of his death. So
steady and persistent was the report that even Marie and her aunt, on
whom I called the next day, believed it.

"It is quite true," Madame Coutance declared. "De Retz has offered up
prayers for the repose of his soul, which he would hardly venture to do
if he believed your cousin was still alive. I met Madame de Chevreuse
last night and she informed me that the Abbe is disconsolate."

I did not argue the point, though in my own mind I concluded that De
Retz was a very clever schemer, and that these reports of Henri's death
were circulated in order to deceive Conde.

In the afternoon I paid a visit to the astrologer's house, and by dint
of bribing the porter gained admittance. Fortunately for the learned
Martin the fire had not reached his rooms, though some parts of the
buildings were damaged. The philosopher received me very affably, and
spoke in feeling terms of my cousin's illness, but when I asked if
Henri would see me the wily old fellow regarded me with the utmost
astonishment.

"M. de Lalande is not here!" he observed. "Did you not know? How
strange! Why, he had left before D'Artagnan arrived with his
musketeers to search the house. It appears that your cousin has
offended Conde, or the Duke of Orleans, or some powerful person, and is
in danger of being imprisoned."

"It is said in the city that he is dead."

"Dead? I hope not, but in his weak state the hurried flight may easily
have proved fatal. The soldiers were sent to arrest him, but his
faithful servant, by some means, heard of their coming, and smuggled
his master out just in time."

"Pillot?"

"Yes, he is a trusty fellow."

"Where was my cousin taken?"

"Pillot did not trust me with his secret," said the astrologer, smiling
blandly, "and I have not seen