Remembering the injunctions of the Countess, I avoided the elaborately-carved Porte Cochère, under which a few of the Comte de Treville's musketeers were loitering--so publicly and in defiance of all scandal did Louis XIII. honour this lady with his favour; and dismissing the fiacre at an angle of the road, I made a detour among the trees of the lawn, and reached unseen the little private postern door, which was hidden in a corner of the château, between a broad round tower and a mass of clematis, that overhung a species of bastion projecting into the fosse. The latter was now drained and covered with the smoothest turf. Here I rang a bell, and on being admitted by Antoine, was at once conducted by a private staircase to the apartments of the Countess. Antoine ushered me into a reception-room, which had hangings of violet-coloured silk, starred with silver, and furniture of walnut-wood, exquisitely carved. Through an arch, festooned with yellow brocade on one side, I saw the sleeping apartment of the Countess, and it was worthy of her beauty. The bed was of richly-carved wood; the curtains were of rose-coloured velvet, and at the head was framed in oak a curious Flemish painting of the loves of Vertumnus and Pomona, taken from Ovid. On the other side an archway, also festooned with yellow brocade, revealed an antechamber, hung with saffron-coloured damask, and on an ebony table a magnificent ruby-coloured Bohemian dessert-service, all pencilled in gold; dishes of silver piled with fruit, and vases and flasks of wine in iced coolers were arranged for a repast. 'The devil!' thought I; 'this is unlucky: madame expects some one, for here is a dessert of love apples and wine of Artois!' I observed myself in an opposite mirror, and was struck by the splendour of my own appearance in the uniform of the guard; but my brows were knit, and I said aloud-- 'Absurd;--is this jealousy?' 'I hope not, my dear M. Blane, for love alone enters here,' said a soft voice; and turning, I saw Madame d'Amboise, in a robe of blue powdered with gold fleurs de lis, and looking so lovely that I was almost bewildered, when kissing her white hand, which was smooth as the finest velvet; then she smiled with that unmistakable air of pleasure and coquetry, which always lights up the countenance of a charming woman at the effect produced by her own beauty. Her invariable attendant, the delicate girl with the golden hair, withdrew abruptly as we met. My first inquiry was for the Chevalier d'Ische, her brother. 'Oh! he is almost well, and is quite able to walk; but you--oh, you are so welcome, M. Blane! and you charm me by this visit. I was longing so much to hear the sound of your voice again. I see you will make it your duty to please me.' 'Could I but hope to succeed.' 'Let not your heart fail.' 'It fails already, madame.' 'Because I am half in love with you.' 'Only half?' she exclaimed, merrily; 'oh, fie, M. Blane!'