"Then, if he knows you, there must be a snare."

"Let us pretend to fall into it."

"But--"

"What do you fear, we can but die? Are you not ready to die for the
accomplishment of our vow?"

"Yes, but not to die without vengeance."

"Remy," cried Diana, her eyes sparkling with wild excitement, "be easy,
we will be revenged; you on the servant, and I on the master."

"Well, madame, then, so be it."

And Remy went down, but still hesitating.

The brave young man had, at the sight of Aurilly, felt, in spite of
himself, that nervous shudder that one feels at the sight of a reptile;
he wished to kill him because he feared him. But as he went down, his
resolution returned, and he determined, in spite of Diana's opinion, to
interrogate Aurilly--to confound him, and if he discovered that he had
any evil intentions, to kill him on the spot.

Aurilly waited for him impatiently. Remy advanced armed with an
unshakable resolution, but his words were quiet and calm.

"Monsieur," said he, "my mistress cannot accept your proposal."

"And why not?"

"Because you are not the steward of M. du Bouchage."

Aurilly grew pale. "Who told you so?" said he.

"No one; but M. du Bouchage, when he left, recommended to my care the
person whom I accompany, and never spoke of you."

"He only saw me after he left you."

"Falsehoods, monsieur; falsehoods."

Aurilly drew himself up--Remy looked like an old man.

"You speak in a singular tone, my good man," said he, frowning; "take
care, you are old, and I am young; you are feeble, and I am strong."

Remy smiled, but did not reply.

"If I wished ill to you or your mistress," continued Aurilly. "I have
but to raise my hand."

"Oh!" said Remy, "perhaps I was wrong, and you wish to do her good."

"Certainly I do."

"Explain to me then what you desire."

"My friend, I will make your fortune at once, if you will serve me."

"And if not?"

"In that case, as you speak frankly, I will reply as frankly, that I
will kill you; I have full power to do so."

"Kill me!" said Remy. "But if I am to serve you, I must know your
projects."

"Well, you have guessed rightly, my good man; I do not belong to the
Comte du Bouchage."

"Ah! and to whom do you belong?"

"To a more powerful lord."

"Take care; you are lying again."

"Why so?"

"There are not many people above the house of Joyeuse."

"Not that of France?"

"Oh! oh!"

"And see how they pay." said Aurilly, sliding into