ook
elsewhere, to the struggle that had arisen between M. de Perrencourt and
his Grace the Duke of Monmouth, in which the stakes were not wars or
religions, and the quarrel of simpler nature. In that fight Louis (for I
did not trouble to maintain his disguise in my thoughts) had won, as he
was certain to win if he put forth his strength. My heart was sore for
Mistress Barbara. I knew that she was to be the spoil of the French
King's victory, and that the loss to the beauty of his Court caused by
the departure of Mlle. de Querouaille was to find compensation. But,
still, where was my part? I saw only one thing: that Louis had taken a
liking for me, and might well choose me as his instrument, if an
instrument were needed. But for what and where it was needed I could not
conceive; since all France was under his feet, and a thousand men would
spring up to do his bidding at a word--aye, let the bidding be what it
might, and the task as disgraceful as you will. What were the qualities
in me or in my condition that dictated his choice baffled conjecture.

Suddenly came a low knock on the door. I opened it and a man slipped in
quickly and covertly. To my amazement, I saw Carford. He had kept much
out of sight lately; I supposed that he had discovered all he wanted
from Monmouth's ready confidence, and had carried his ill-won gains to
his paymaster. But supposing that he would keep up the comedy I said
stiffly,

"You come to me from the Duke of Monmouth, my lord?"

He was in no mood for pretence to-night. He was in a state of great
excitement, and, brushing aside all reserve, made at once for the point.

"I am come," said he, "to speak a word with you. In an hour you're to
sail for France?"

"Yes," said I. "Those are the King's orders."

"But in an hour you could be so far from here that he with whom you go
could not wait for your return."

"Well, my lord?"

"To be brief, what's your price to fly and not to sail?"

We were standing, facing one another. I answered him slowly, trying to
catch his purpose.

"Why are you willing to pay me a price?" said I. "For it's you who
pays?"

"Yes, I pay. Come, man, you know why you go and who goes with you?"

"M. de Perrencourt and M. Colbert go," said I. "Why I go, I don't know."

"Nor who else goes?" he asked, looking in my eyes. I paused for a moment
and then answered,

"Yes, she goes."

"And you know for what purpose?"

"I can guess the purpose."

"Well, I want to g