ver his slip, "Or rather, how did you know I was coming?"

"Tristan told me as he rode out half an hour ago. He said you were on
the way and might arrive any moment. You are to go to the King at
once."

"So Tristan left half an hour ago?"

Try as he would Commines could not quite control his voice. He owed
more to Mademoiselle de Vesc than he had supposed. The trap had, as it
were, snapped before his face and he had escaped by a hair-breadth.
Tristan's cunning was as deep as simplicity. His forethought must have
run somewhat thus. Lessaix knows that Monsieur de Commines is expected
any moment and is to go at once to the King, who waits for him;
Monsieur de Commines does not appear, but remains paying his court to
the Dauphin at Amboise. The inference would be clear to all men, and
Monsieur de Commines would be ruined outright and utterly discredited.
Yes, Ursula de Vesc had saved him from downfall, or worse.

Lessaix, watchful as every man was who called Louis master, caught the
change of tone and again looked up, but this time with something more
than curiosity--an anxious wariness, a fear lest some current of events
he failed to discover might catch him in its flood and drag him down
with its undertow unawares.

"Monsieur de Commines," he said earnestly, laying a hand on Commines'
bridle-rein as they passed at a foot's pace under the archway, "we have
always been friends, always good comrades, is there--" he hesitated,
uncertain how far he dared commit himself with his good friend and
comrade, "is there anything wrong--astray--here, or at Amboise?"

"The Dauphin is well, and it is you who should have the news of Valmy.
I know nothing but that the King sent for me in haste. Some question
of new taxation, perhaps; or it may be that England threatens to break
the peace. What did Tristan say?"

"Nothing but what I tell you, but he laughed as he said it. If I were
you, I would not delay, but would go to the King booted and spurred and
dusty as you are."

Commines nodded. The advice was welcome, not only because it was meant
kindly but for what it inferred. If disgrace threatened, Lessaix at
least had no knowledge of it.

"The messenger who left two days ago, has he returned?"

"Not yet; there was another yesterday."

"I know. Who is on guard?"

"Beaufoy, and the password is Amboise."

Again Commines nodded. Beaufoy? That, too, was all in his favour.
Beaufoy was one of the younger men and not