That night it was my duty to take the guard outside the Queen's apartments. Circumstances had made it impossible for me to have speech with De Lorgnac, and Le Brusquet was nowhere to be seen, so that I was unable to inform them of what I knew.

Full of the discovery I had made, and with my thoughts running on the danger that threatened mademoiselle, I paced backward and forward before the door leading into the ante-room, my long shadow keeping me ghostly company. It was the night of the great masque given by the King in honour of his Diane's birthday—the masque in which she was to flaunt in the Crown diamonds—and, as may be imagined, there was not a soul to be seen in the gallery that curved before me into dim, mysterious gloom.

Now and again I thought I heard a laugh and the sound of subdued voices from within the ante-room; but, guessing that the mice were probably playing within, I paid no heed, and, being a little tired, seated myself on the coffer that lay in the shadow near the door, and stared moodily into the silence, absorbed in my own sombre reflections.

On a sudden I heard the patter of footsteps—hasty, rapid footsteps coming towards me along the gallery. I challenged, and got the password on the instant in Le Brusquet's voice, and in a half-minute the little man emerged from the gloom and stood beside me.

"I was ready to give my last pistole to see you," I began; but he put up his hand, saying in a low tone, as he pointed to the door:

"Hush! Is there anyone within?"

"Mice, I think," I answered softly.

"Perhaps a cat." And he dropped his voice to the lowest whisper. "Whoever they are I must empty that room ere we speak, for I have, I think, as much for you as you for me."

With this he knocked twice sharply at the door. After a moment it was opened, and putting the curtains aside Le Brusquet slipped into the room. In doing so, whether by accident or design, he left the door open and the curtains drawn back, so that from where I stood in the shadow outside I could see and hear all that passed within. There were only two persons there, and I smiled a little to myself at Le Brusquet's caution, for one was pretty Mademoiselle Davila, seated demurely on a tabouret, and the other was a fair-haired boy of sixteen or so, who stood with a red face and an uncomfortable air some distance away from her.

"Mice, as I thought," I chuckled to myself, whilst Le Brusquet, with a profound bow, said:

"Mademoiselle, I had thought to have found M. de Lorgnac in waiting here."

"Here! M. de Lorgnac!" replied the maid-of-honour, with a little laugh. "No; M. de Lorgnac never ventures here, unless compelled to."

"I suppose neither of you can tell me where he has gone? Can you, De Lorges?" And he turned to the page; but the boy only grew redder, and began to make a fumbling reply.

Mademoiselle Davila, however, cut in. "He has gone to the masque." And with a burst of confidence as she rose to her feet: "The Queen has gone too, monsieur."

"To the masque! The masque she said she would never attend!"

"Oh, the Queen is a woman, monsieur! And so she has gone, and gone masked, too, with Monsieur de Lorgnac in attendance—not a soul else—and I have been left here—ah!" And she stamped her little foot. "One cannot even hear the music. Oh! it is a grave, this place—a grave!"

"Faith! I know those who would think this little waiting-room a heaven."

"Who?" She was a good girl, but a coquette to her finger-tips, and the bait took.

Ere he answered Le Brusquet slipped his arm through that of the page, who seemed to be meditating flight.

"That, mademoiselle," he said slyly, "is a secret between De Lorges and myself."

Mademoiselle coloured very prettily, and half turning from her tormentor, said:

"I shall never speak to you again, monsieur—never."

"Mademoiselle, if you keep that vow I shall die in a week; but see, I will make amends. Why not slip on a hood and go to the masque? De Lorges will be proud to escort you."

She looked around her, half delighted, half frightened at the thought, and then, with a nervous laugh:

"I dare not risk it."

"Why not? Not a soul will know; and if there is any trouble say that Le Brusquet played an evil turn on you, and told you you were summoned by the Queen. I will not deny it; and it will still Madame de Montal's tongue. Come, De Lorges, persuade her."

"It would be a rare jest, mademoiselle!" And, trembling with eagerness, De Lorges made a step forward.

She stood wavering. There was another word of encouragement from Le
Brusquet, and she took the plunge.

"A moment," she said, and vanished into the inner room.

"Eh bien, monsieur," and Le Brusquet turned towards De Lorges, "you have a great trust to-night; guard it carefully."

"Monsieur," replied the boy, "with my life," and he touched the hilt of his little sword. He was a gallant lad this son of Montgomery de Lorges.

Le Brusquet bowed to hide the twinkle in his eyes; and now Mademoiselle
Davila reappeared, disguised in a red hood and mask.

"No one will guess." And Le Brusquet surveyed her with a critical air, whilst De Lorges, who longed to be off, burst out: "Come, mademoiselle! I shall steal a mask and hood from somewhere later on."

But a new obstacle had arisen. "I forgot," she said, "the guard at the door."

"Reassure yourself, mademoiselle. It is a friend—Orrain."

"The hero!" And she clapped her hands. "Come, De Lorges." And, with a little nod to Le Brusquet, she ran to the door, followed by the page. As the two came forth she stopped.

"Monsieur d'Orrain, you will not betray us?"

"Not I, mademoiselle."

"Then as a reward I tell you there is someone you would like to see reading Marot's verses in the Queen's cabinet."

Without waiting for an answer, she tripped off down the gallery, De Lorges by her side. There was a flash of the red hood, and the two were gone.

"Enfin!" And Le Brusquet sat himself down on the coffer. "We are rid of that chattering feather-brain; but, before everything, tell me when you will be relieved."

"Within the hour."

"That will do excellently. Now for your news. Mine can keep for ten minutes."

I told him what I had learned, and he listened without a word until the end, listened seated on the coffer, with his chin resting on his knees, his long nose drooping over his mouth, and his keen little eyes shining like beads.

"A good day's work," he said when I had finished; "never better. Two things are in my favour; one is that they have not got that grant yet; the other, that the three seem to be dissatisfied with their angles of the triangle. Each wants what the other has, like cats over their bowls of milk; and there is an old proverb, too, about thieves falling out, which you, no doubt, remember."

"I shall put the whole matter before the Queen, and beg her to place
Mademoiselle de Paradis in safety until this is ended."

"There is much water to flow under the bridges before this will end; but it will be a good move. The Admiral too will know of the triangle in three days; and, if I mistake not, that means that the Peace of Vaucelles is waste-paper. It will stop the Spanish pensions, at any rate for a time, and hit our vampires hard." And he chuckled as he slipped down from the coffer on to his feet. "Mon ami," he went on in his strange way, "to-night and to-morrow I shall be stirring this porridge, and by noon to-morrow you will have certain news, and then we can act. And now for your task."

"My task?"

"Yes. I knew the Queen was at the masque; she has gone there to see Diane wearing her jewels. That she will never forgive; and there will be a bitter vengeance some day—mark my words! The Queen requires the attendance of Mademoiselle de Paradis. She knows of this. It was arranged before, and she is merely awaiting the summons in the cabinet yonder, and you are to take her to the masque."

"But I have neither mask nor hood!"

"That is arranged also, and I have them ready for you. I will take mademoiselle out now, and you will meet us after your relief on the battlements outside the Philippine. You know the spot where the stairway leads from the gallery?"

"Perfectly."

"Then au revoir!" With this he slipped back into the ante-room, and five minutes after came forth, accompanied by a masked and hooded figure that would have been unrecognisable except that I knew it was Mademoiselle de Paradis.

As they came out we heard, far away in the distance, the challenge of a sentry.

"It is the relief," I said. "Quick!"

They waved their hands to me and sped like sprites along the gallery; and I waited, wondering what more the night would bring forth.

In about ten minutes the relief came up; and M. de Tolendal, who was in charge, was so eager to get back to the masquerade that he made no inquiries, and got off as soon as possible, dismissing me at the same time. I let monsieur hurry back along the gallery, following at a slow pace behind him, until I came to the steps that led down to the battlements, and passing through the archway reached the place appointed by Le Brusquet. Here I found the two awaiting me in the shadow of the donjon, and Le Brusquet said: "Here is your hood and mask. I kept them here to save trouble in carrying them. Remember that mademoiselle is the double of the Queen and you of De Lorgnac. And now away with you; I have other fish to fry." With this he ran up the stairway, and entered the Philippine.

"Mademoiselle," I asked, "can you guess what this means?"

"No, monsieur. All that I know is that it is the Queen's command, and that we are to be there by midnight."

"It will be that soon, so come."

She put her arm in mine, and we hastened along the edge of the battlements. We could hear music now; and as we went on the strains grew louder and louder, and at last we stood on the parapet overlooking the Ladies' Terrace. Beneath us stretched the gardens of the palace, and thousands of lights glowed, in many-coloured radiance, from within the foliage of the trees wherein they were set; or, raised high in the air, burned in rainbow-hued arches and fantastic loops and curves.

Beneath these lights, in and out of the shrubberies, amongst the parterres, in the shadows and in the light, was an ever-moving crowd and the continuous hum of voices, and now and again merry ripples of laughter came to us as we watched from above. A little beyond, to the right, the faÇade of the audience hall was ablaze with light, and on the broad flight of steps leading to the main entrance were gay groups, the rich colouring of their dresses—orange, red, gold, and purple—making them appear in the distance like masses of gorgeous flowers.

We were soon in the crowd below, making our way towards the audience hall; but our progress was not rapid, for time after time a mask or a group of hooded revellers stopped us; but with light words and merry jests we put them aside, and descending the steps entered the great hall. Here the crowd was so great that we were barely able to move; but at last we reached a pillar, on the base of which I placed my charge, and, standing beside her, we looked here, there, and everywhere for the Queen and De Lorgnac.

"I do not see them," whispered mademoiselle.

"'Tis like searching for a needle in sand; but, if I mistake not,
Madame de Poitiers will prove a magnet. Let us keep our eyes there."

With this I pointed before me towards the upper end of the hall, where a large empty space was reserved for dancing, though for the present the music had ceased, and the musicians were seated idle in the galleries above. Beyond this space was a dais, surmounted by a canopy of pale blue silk, spangled with the silver crescents of Diane de Poitiers. Behind the dais ran a huge buffet, many stages in height, rich with matchless plate, and in the centre was a sword, an enormous cross-hilted sword, said to be the Joyeuse of Charlemagne.

On each side of the dais stood the two hundred gentlemen of the King's house in violet and gold, the bright steel blades of the battle-axes they bore on their shoulders reflecting back the light in dazzling rays, and immediately in front stood the herald Montjoy with his trumpeters.

Although every soul in the crowd wore a mask and hood there were many on the dais who wore no disguise, and amongst these was the King. Henri was clad in white, with a white plume in his cap, in memory of the day years ago when, arrayed in white armour, he had ridden the lists at Fontainebleau in honour of Diane, and borne her arms to victory. Near him was Laval, the gallant Bois-Dauphin, who ran the King hard in that gentle day, and, but for the short splintering of a lance, might have been declared the victor. He too was clad in memory of the day, all in scarlet, with a phoenix for his crest—the arms of Claude de Foix. For the moment he was engaged in talk with a brilliant cavalier, the Bayard of his age, Francis, Marquis de Vieilleville.

But though here and there a great name, or a striking figure on the dais, might attract attention, almost all interest was centred on a woman, who stood with the fingers of one hand resting lightly on the King's arm. It was Diane de Poitiers herself. Tall, with black, curling hair and perfect features, with dark, melting eyes, she bore herself as a queen. The royal jewels of France sparkled on her head, at her throat, and on her arms, and glittered amidst the robes of black and white she wore. Her voice when she spoke was low and sweet, yet I had heard it as hard as steel, and I had seen those red lips curve wickedly, and those dark eyes had looked with sullen and pitiless indifference on scenes of hideous torture and death. There were two masks in front of us, arm-in-arm, watching the scene as intently as we were.

"That woman was born to be queen over men. Look at those eyes,
Montaigne!"

The answer came in a dry, precise voice: "Eyes are the windows of the soul; but Quid tibi praecipiam molles vitare fenestras?—and you are courtier enough, De BrantÔme, to appreciate Fontanus' warning."

"I am courtier enough, my philosopher, to know that the crescent moon, for instance, is out of my reach, not like that orange mask there."

"I do not know to whom you refer."

"There, at the edge of the dais. 'Tis De Ganache, who, from the day he set foot in Court, has followed Diane about like a spaniel; and though I care not to gossip——"

Mademoiselle shivered, and half turned towards me; but the talk came to an abrupt ending, for the herald Montjoy made a sign, and the trumpeters, advancing each a step, sounded a flourish. It was the signal for the galliard. As the flourish ended the music broke forth, and in a moment the empty space before us was gay with moving colours, like a wind-stirred flower bed. Those on the dais seemed to melt away, and mademoiselle, leaning forwards, whispered: "Take me out of this! Anywhere but here!"

She took my arm again, and we edged our way back to the entrance. Here, however, we found the throng so great that it was impossible to pass, and seeing a little passage to our right I turned down it. Here, amidst some foliage, was a secluded seat, and seating her there I took my stand beside her, at a narrow window that opened out upon the Ladies' Terrace. The night was warm, and throwing back her hood and removing her mask mademoiselle leaned forward and looked out upon the fairy scene in the gardens. The music came to us in fitful strains of melody, and outside was a glittering enchantment.

"Have you changed your opinion of the Court, mademoiselle?" I asked.

"No!—a hundred times no! Monsieur, I would rather be the poorest peasant girl on my lands than Diane de Paradis."

I was about to reply when we heard a laugh and the sound of low voices near us. Where we sat it was almost dark; but there was a dim light in the passage, and through the foliage we saw two figures standing side by side not three feet from us. In the orange hood of one I recognised De Ganache, and the other—yes, that laugh and voice, once heard, were never to be forgotten.

De Ganache held her hand in his. He raised it to his lips, and covering it with kisses broke into mad, foolish words—the speech of a man who has cast aside all self-respect, all honour. Ere he had spoken ten words, however, mademoiselle had sprung from her seat and stepped out into the passage, I following on her heels. At sight of her De Ganache went back as if he had been struck; but with superb insolence the Duchess stood in her way.

"So," she said in hard tones, "this is the second time to-night!" And then, with a shameless laugh, she turned to De Ganache. "You are unfortunate, Monsieur le Vicomte; you see, I have a rival even here. I congratulate mademoiselle on the quickness with which she has learned the lessons of the Court." And with a mocking bow she took De Ganache by the arm and swept down the passage.

Mademoiselle was shivering from head to foot, and even by the uncertain light I could see her eyes were swimming with tears. For a moment all her courage, all her high spirit, seemed to have left her.

"Oh, what does this mean?" she moaned. "What does she mean by the second time? I——"

"She meant, mademoiselle, that she had met the Queen, who is masked as you are; but, Queen or no Queen," I went on grimly, "you have had enough of this, and I will take you back at once. There! Put on your mask, and draw your hood up—and come!"

I led her back towards the main entrance, which we managed to gain this time without much difficulty, and thence into the gardens. Mademoiselle spoke no word, nor did I intrude upon her thoughts. We crossed the Ladies' Terrace, the little groups of people scattered here and there being much too absorbed in their own business to take any note of us, and finally stood once more upon the battlements. Along these we hurried until we reached the stairway leading to the Philippine, and as we came up two figures stepped out of the shadow into our path. My charge shrank back with a little gasp of alarm, so sudden and unexpected was their appearance, and I half drew my poniard, but put it back again on the moment, for I recognised De Lorgnac and Le Brusquet.

"I thought we would meet you here," said the latter; "but your task ends now, Chevalier. De Lorgnac will now escort mademoiselle back."

"If I am permitted the honour," put in De Lorgnac.

"It seems that to-night I must play the marionette to your pulling, Le Brusquet," I laughed as I made way for De Lorgnac; and for once the little man made no reply, but addressing Diane said: "The Queen has already returned, and you will find the salon full, mademoiselle; but before you go give me that hood; it might tell tales. I will see it safely returned."

Diane removed the hood, and handed the soft silken folds to Le Brusquet.

"Messieurs," she said, her eyes shining brightly behind the mask she still wore, "it seems that you are hiding something from me. What is it?"

"You will know in a few minutes, mademoiselle," said De Lorgnac, "for the Queen herself will tell you."

She made no answer, but, gravely wishing us good-night, followed De Lorgnac up the stone steps, and, passing through the archway, the two were lost to our view. When they had gone I turned to Le Brusquet.

"I too am in the dark. What did De Lorgnac mean?"

"He meant that his Majesty, by some means or other, discovered that the Queen was at the masque and who remained behind in the cabinet. The result was that, an hour after you took mademoiselle away, the King, attended only by the Vidame d'Orrain—both wearing masks and hoods—visited the Queen's apartments, and——" He stopped and chuckled.

"And what?" I said.

"And found the Queen alone in her cabinet reading Ronsard."