Two looks, enduring not a moment; yet, had I known what was behind them, my life would assuredly have run an entirely different course. The gentlemen of the Duke of Guise now joined Catherine's ladies at the fireplace. For a time, Mlle. d'Arency was thus lost to my sight; then the group opened, and I saw her resting her great eyes, smilingly, on the face of De Noyard, who was talking to her in a low tone, his gaze fixed upon her with an expression of wistful adoration. "The devil!" I muttered. "That man loves her." "My faith!" said De Rilly, "one would think he was treading on your toes in doing so; yet you do not even know her." "She is the woman I have chosen to be in love with, nevertheless," I said. It seemed as if the Duke of Guise had come to the Louvre solely for a word with the Queen-mother, for now he took his departure, followed by his suite, while Catherine went to her own apartments. As De Noyard passed out, he saw me. His face showed that he recognized me, and that he wondered what I was doing in the palace. There was nothing of offence in his look, only a slight curiosity. De Rilly now expressed an intention of going out to take the air, but I preferred to stay where I was; for Mlle. d'Arency had remained in the gallery, with some other of Catherine's ladies. So the loquacious equerry went without me. I formed a bold resolution. Quelling the trepidation that came with it, I strode quickly over to Mlle. d'Arency, who still stood against the tapestry as if she had been a figure in it but had come to life and stepped out into the apartment. Her large eyes fell on me, and opened slightly wider, showing at once recognition and a not unpleasant surprise. I bowed very low, partly to conceal the flush that I felt mounting to my face. "Pardon me, Mlle. d'Arency," I said, in a voice as steady as I could make it. Then I looked at her and saw her features assuming an expression of such coldness and astonishment that for some time neither my tongue nor my mind could continue the speech, nor could I move a step in retreat. All the while she kept her eyes upon me. I drew a deep breath at last, and said in desperation: "Doubtless I ought not to address you, being unknown to you, but if you will permit me, I will go and bring M. de Rilly, who will present me." Her face softened somewhat, and she looked amused. "You seem quite able to present yourself," she said. I was immensely relieved at this melting of the ice, just when I was beginning to feel that I was becoming a spectacle. "I am Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire," I said, and to fill up the embarrassing pause that followed, I added, "and, being a Huguenot, I am a nobody in Paris,--in fact, a mere volunteer in the French Guards." "Well, Monsieur Guardsman, what do you wish to say to me?" She was now in quite a pleasant, quizzical mood. "I trust you do not expect me to say it in one word," I answered; and then I lowered my voice, "or in a single interview."