Turning in confusion to the next, I was surprised to see before me the lady whose lodging I had invaded in my search for Mademoiselle de la Vire--she, I mean, who, having picked up the velvet; knot, had dropped it so providentially where Simon Fleix found it. She looked at me blushing and laughing, and the young gentleman, who had done her errand, presenting me by name, she asked me, while the others listened, whether I had found my mistress. Before I could answer, the lady to whom I had first addressed myself interposed. ‘Stop, sir!’ she cried. What is this--a tale, a jest, a game, or a forfeit?’ ‘An adventure, madam,’ I answered, bowing low. ‘Of gallantry, I’ll be bound,’ she exclaimed. ‘Fie, Madame de Bruhl, and you but six months married!’ Madame de Bruhl protested, laughing, that she had no more to do with it than Mercury. ‘At the worst,’ she said, ‘I carried the POULETS! But I can assure you, duchess, this gentleman should be able to tell us a very fine story, if he would.’ The duchess and all the other ladies clapping their hands at this, and crying out that the story must and should be told, I found myself in a prodigious quandary; and one wherein my wits derived as little assistance as possible from the bright eyes and saucy looks which environed me. Moreover, the commotion attracting other listeners, I found my position, while I tried to extricate myself, growing each moment worse, so that I began to fear that as I had little imagination I should perforce have to tell the truth. The mere thought of this threw me into a cold perspiration, lest I should let slip something of consequence, and prove myself unworthy of the trust which M. de Rosny had reposed in me.