Denis through the dark, to knock at my door at one in the
morning."
Mayenne seized Monsieur's wrist.
"She is safe, St. Quentin? She is safe?"
"As safe, monsieur, as the king's protection can make her."
"Pardieu! Is she with the king?"
"She is at my lodgings, in the care of the saddler's wife who lets them.
I left a staunch man in charge--I have no doubt of him."
"You answer for her safety?" Mayenne cried huskily; his breath coming
short. He was flushed, the veins in his forehead corded.
"When she came last night, it happened that the king was there,"
Monsieur went on. "Her loveliness and her misery moved him to the
heart."
"Thousand thunders of heaven! You, with your son, shall be hostages for
her safe return."
"The king," Monsieur went on, as immovably as Mayenne himself at his
best, "with that warm heart of his pitying beauty in distress, is eager
for mademoiselle's marriage with her lover Mar. But he did not favour my
venture here; he called it a silly business. He said you would clap me
in jail, and he told me flat I might rot my life out there before he
would give up to you Mlle. de Montluc."
"Well, then, pardieu, we'll try if he means it!"
"He gave me to understand that he meant it. The St. Quentins out of the
way, there is Valere, stout Kingsman, to succeed. The king loses
little.
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