it to him
to solicit my pardon of the King. I know he would prefer I should place
the matter all in his hands."

"Yes, to be sure, Monsieur Henri. And of course to a gentleman who has
served him so well, the King can't refuse anything."

"He is scarce likely to refuse him that favour, at any rate. My father
will know just what to do; just whom to make his petition through, and
all that. Perhaps he will go to Paris himself about it; or he may send
Blaise Tripault with letters to some of his old friends who are near the
King. But he will do whatever is best. The pardon will doubtless be
obtained before I reach Paris, as I am going by this indirect way and
may stop for awhile in the neighbourhood of Vendome. But I shall
eventually turn up at the inn we were bound for, in the Rue St. Honore."

"Yes, Monsieur, and may God land you there safe and sound!"

"Tell my father that the only name by which I know my antagonist is
Monsieur de Merri. Perhaps he belonged to Montoire; at any rate, he was
acquainted there."

We soon reached the place where the roads diverge. I took over my
travelling bag and cloak from Nicolas's mule to my horse, hastily
repeated my directions in summary form, supplied him with money, and
showed him his road, he very disconsolate at parting, and myself little
less so. As night was falling, and so much uncertainty lay over my
immediate future, the trial of our spirits was the greater. However, as
soon as he was moving on his way, I turned my horse forward on mine, and
tried, by admiring the stars, to soften the sense of my loneliness and
danger.

I began to forget the peril of my present situation by thinking of the
affair I had undertaken. In the first place, how to find the lady? All I
knew of her was that she was probably at Montoire, that she had been
associated in some way with Monsieur de Merri, and that she now thought
herself in imminent danger. And I had in my possession a piece of her
handwriting, which, however, I should have to use very cautiously if at
all. There was, indeed, little to start with toward the task of finding
her out, but, as Montoire could not be a large place, I need not
despair. I would first, I thought, inquire about Monsieur de Merri and
what ladies were of his acquaintance. If Monsieur de Merri himself was
of Montoire, and had people living there, my presence would be a great
risk. I could not know how soon the news of his death might reach them
after my own arrival