who had discovered
such an indiscretion. It was equally repugnant to her to accept the
evasion offered by this delicate deception. Agitated, nervous, she
struggled against the double stings of these two troubles. Raoul
comprehended her position, and came once more to her aid. Bending his
knee before her: "Madame!" said he, in a low voice, "in two days I shall
be far from Paris; in a fortnight I shall be far from France, where I
shall never be seen again."

"Are you going away, then?" said she, with great delight.

"With M. de Beaufort."

"Into Africa!" cried De Guiche, in his turn. "You, Raoul--oh! my
friend--into Africa, where everybody dies!"

And forgetting everything, forgetting that that forgetfulness itself
compromised the princess more eloquently than his presence, "Ingrate!"
said he, "and you have not even consulted me!" And he embraced him;
during which time Montalais had led away Madame, and disappeared
herself.

Raoul passed his hand over his brow, and said, with a smile, "I have
been dreaming!" Then warmly to Guiche, who by degrees absorbed him, "My
friend," said he, "I conceal nothing from you, who are the elected of my
heart. I am going to seek death in yonder country; your secret will not
remain in my breast more than a year."

"Oh, Raoul! a man!"

"Do you know what is my thought, count? This is it--I shall live more
vividly, being buried beneath the earth, than I have lived for this
month past. We are Christians, my friend, and if such sufferings were to
continue, I would not be answerable for the safety of my soul."

De Guiche was anxious to raise objections.

"Not one word more on my account," said Raoul; "but advice to you, dear
friend; what I am going to say to you is of much greater importance."

"What is that?"

"Without doubt you risk much more than I do, because you love."

"Oh!"

"It is a joy so sweet to me to be able to speak to you thus! Well, then,
De Guiche, beware of Montalais."

"What! of that kind friend?"

"She was the friend of--her you know of. She ruined her by pride."

"You are mistaken."

"And now, when she has ruined her, she would ravish from her the only
thing that renders that woman excusable in my eyes."

"What is that?"

"Her love."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that there is a plot formed against her who is the mistress of
the king--a plot formed in the very house of Madame."

"Can you think so?"

"I am certain of it."

"By Montalais?