e shame under a mask of cordiality. "A
thousand pardons, M. de Rosny," he cried with effusion, "for an absence
quite unpardonable. But I so little expected to see his Majesty after
what you said, and--"

"Are in no hurry to interrupt him now you are here," I replied bluntly,
determined that, whoever he deceived, he should not flatter himself he
deceived me. "Pooh, man! I am not a fool," I continued.

"What is this?" he cried, with a desperate attempt to keep up the
farce. "I don't understand you!"

"No, the shoe is on the other foot--I understand you," I replied drily.
"Chut, man!" I continued, "you don't make a cats-paw of me. I see the
game. You are for sitting in Madame de Sourdis' seat, and giving your
son a Hat, and your groom a Comptrollership, and your niece a--"

"Hush, hush, M. de Rosny," he muttered, turning white and red, and
wiping his brow with his kerchief. "MON DIEU! your words might--"

"If overheard, make things very unpleasant for M. de Perrot," I said.

"And M. de Rosny?"

I shrugged my shoulders contemptuously. "Tush, man!" I said. "Do you
think that I sit in no safer seat than that?"

"Ah! But when Madame de Beaufort is Queen?" he said slily.

"If she ever is," I replied, affecting greater confidence than I at
that time felt.

"Well, to be sure," he said slowly, "if she ever is." And he looked
towards the King and his companion, who were still chatting gaily.
Then he stole a crafty glance at me. "Do you wish her to be?" he
muttered.

"Queen?" I said, "God forbid!"

"It would be a disgrace to France?" he whispered; and he laid his hand
on my arm, and looked eagerly into my face.

"Yes," I said.

"A blot on his fame?"

I nodded.

"A--a slur on a score of noble families?"

I could not deny it.

"Then--is it not worth while to avoid all that?" he murmured, his face
pale, and his small eyes glued to mine. "Is it not worth a
little--sacrifice, M. de Rosny?"

"And risk?" I said. "Possibly."

While the words were still on my lips, something stirred close to us,
behind the yew hedge beside which we were standing. Perrot darted in a
moment to the opening, and I after him. We were just in time to catch
a glimpse of a figure disappearing round the corner of the house.
"Well," I said grimly, "what about being overheard now?"

M. de Perrot wiped his face. "Thank Heaven!" he said, "it was only my
son. Now let me explain to you--"

But our hasty movement ha