He smiled.

"Curious, is it not? She is the sister of the man whom I quarrelled
with this morning, and whom you fought with this afternoon. Now you will
understand my uncle's reasons for so strenuously desiring to prevent the
duel at St. Germain. It appears that the old Chevalier de Canaples is
as eager as the Cardinal to see his daughter wed to me, for his Eminence
has promised to create me Duke for a wedding gift. 'T will cost him
little, and 't will please these Canaples mightily. Naturally, had
Eugene de Canaples and I crossed swords, matters would have been
rendered difficult."

"When did you learn all this?" I inquired.

"To-day, after the duel, and when it was known what St. Auban and
Montmedy had threatened me with. My uncle thought it well that I should
withdraw from Paris. He sent for me and told me what I have told you,
adding that I had best seize the opportunity, whilst my presence at
Court was undesirable, to repair to Blois and get my wooing done. I in
part agreed with him. The lady is very rich, and I am told that she is
beautiful. I shall see her, and if she pleases me, I'll woo her. If not,
I'll return to Paris."

"But her brother will oppose you."

"Her brother? Pooh! If he doesn't die of the sword-thrust you gave him,
which I am told is in the region of the lung and passing dangerous, he
will at least be abed for a couple of months to come."

"But I, mon cher Andre? What role do you reserve for me, that you have
desired me to go with you?"

"The role of Mentor if you will. Methought you would prove a merry
comrade to help one o'er a tedious journey, and knowing that there was
little to hold you to Paris, and probably sound reasons why you should
desire to quit it, meseemed that perhaps you would consent to bear me
company. Who knows, my knight errant, what adventures may await you and
what fortunes? If the heiress displeases me, it may be that she will
please you--or mayhap there is another heiress at Blois who will fall
enamoured of those fierce moustachios."

I laughed with him at the improbability of such things befalling. I
carried in my bosom too large a heart, and one that was the property of
every wench I met--for just so long as I chanced to be in her company.

It was no more than in harmony with this habit of mine, that when, next
morning in the common-room of the Connetable, I espied Jeanneton, the
landlord's daughter, and remarked that she was winsome and shapely, with
a complex