joy filled the heart of St.
Maline, and a smile played on his lips, a rare thing with this somber
and envious man.

The forty-four therefore set off on their different routes.

CHAPTER XL.

BEL-ESBAT.

It is needless to say that Ernanton, whom St. Maline thought ruined,
was, on the contrary, pursuing the course of his unexpected and
ascending fortunes. He had, of course, gone first to the Hotel Guise.
There, after having knocked at the great door and had it opened, he was
only laughed at when he asked for an interview with the duchess. Then,
as he insisted, they told him that he ought to know that her highness
lived at Soissons and not at Paris. Ernanton was prepared for this
reception, so it did not discourage him.

"I am grieved at her highness's absence," said he, "for I had a
communication of great importance to deliver to her from the Duc de
Mayenne."

"From the Duc de Mayenne! Who charged you to deliver it?"

"The duke himself."

"The duke! and where, pray? for he is not at Paris either!"

"I know that, as I met him on the road to Blois."

"On the road to Blois?" said the porter, a little more attentive.

"Yes, and he there charged me with a message for Madame de Montpensier."

"A message?"

"A letter."--"Where is it?"

"Here," said Ernanton, striking his doublet.

"Will you let me see it?"

"Willingly." And Ernanton drew out the letter.

"What singular ink!" said the man.

"It is blood," said Ernanton, calmly.

The porter grew pale at these words, and at the idea that this blood
belonged to M. de Mayenne. At this time, when there was great dearth of
ink and abundance of blood spilled, it was not uncommon for lovers to
write to their mistresses, or absent relations to their families, in
this liquid.

"Monsieur," said the servant, "I do not know if you will find Madame de
Montpensier in Paris or its environs; but go to a house in the Faubourg
St. Antoine, called Bel-Esbat, which belongs to the duchesse; it is the
first on the left hand going to Vincennes, after the convent of the
Jacobins. You will be sure to find some one there in the service of the
duchesse sufficiently in her confidence to be able to tell you where
Madame la Duchesse is just now."

"Thank you," said Ernanton, who saw that the man either could or would
say no more.

He found Bel-Esbat easily, and without more inquiries, rang, and the
door opened.

"Enter," said a man, who then seemed to wait for some passw