ord, but as
Ernanton did not give any, he asked him what he wanted.

"I wish to speak to Madame la Duchesse de Montpensier."

"And why do you come here for her?"

"Because the porter at the Hotel Guise sent me here."

"Madame la Duchesse is not here."

"That is unlucky, as it will prevent me from fulfilling the mission with
which M. de Mayenne charged me."

"For Madame la Duchesse?"

"Yes."

"From M. le Duc de Mayenne?"

"Yes."

The valet reflected a moment. "Monsieur," said he, "I cannot answer;
there is some one else whom I must consult. Please to wait."

"These people are well served," thought Ernanton. "Certainly, they must
be dangerous people who think it necessary to hide themselves in this
manner. One cannot enter a house of the Guises as you can the Louvre. I
begin to think that it is not the true king of France whom I serve."

He looked round him; the courtyard was deserted, but all the doors of
the stables were open, as if they expected some troop to enter and take
up their quarters. He was interrupted by the return of the valet,
followed by another.

"Leave me your horse, monsieur," said he, "and follow my comrade; you
will find some one who can answer you much better than I can."

Ernanton followed the valet, and was shown into a little room, where a
simply though elegantly dressed lady was seated at an embroidery frame.

"Here is the gentleman from M. de Mayenne, madame," said the servant.

She turned, and Ernanton uttered a cry of surprise.

"You, madame!" cried he, recognizing at once his page and the lady of
the litter.

"You!" cried the lady in her turn, letting her work drop, and looking at
Ernanton.

"Leave us," said she to the valet.

"You are of the household of Madame de Montpensier, madame?" said
Ernanton.

"Yes; but you, monsieur, how do you bring here a message from the Duc de
Mayenne?"

"Through unforeseen circumstances, which it would take too long to
repeat," replied Ernanton, cautiously.

"Oh! you are discreet, monsieur," said the lady, smiling.

"Yes, madame, whenever it is right to be so."

"But I see no occasion for your discretion here; for, if you really
bring a message from the person you say--Oh! do not look angry; if you
really do, I say, it interests me sufficiently that, in remembrance of
our acquaintance, short though it was, you should tell it to me."

The lady threw into these words all the caressing and seductive grace
that a pretty woman can.