“Your highness’s respectful servant, “BRYAN DE MONSOREAU.” “Well, what do you say, Bussy?” “I say that you are well served, monseigneur.” “You mean betrayed.” “Ah, true; I forgot the end.” “The wretch! he made me believe in the death woman----” “Whom he stole from you; it is black enough.” “How did he manage?” “He made the father believe you the ravisher, and offered himself to rescue the lady, presented himself at the château of Beaugé with a letter from the Baron de Méridor, brought a boat to the windows, and carried away the prisoner; then shut her up in the house you know of, and by constantly working upon her fears, forced her to become his wife.” “Is it not infamous?” “Only partly excused by your conduct, monseigneur.” “Ah! Bussy, you shall see how I will revenge myself!” “Princes do not revenge themselves, they punish,” said Bussy. “How can I punish him?” “By restoring happiness to Madame de Monsoreau.” “But can I?” “Certainly.” “How?” “By restoring her to liberty. The marriage was forced, therefore it is null.” “You are right.” “Get it set aside, then, and you will have acted like a gentleman and a prince.” “Ah, ah!” said the prince, “what warmth! you are interested in it, Bussy.” “I! not at all, except that I do not wish people to say that Louis de Clermont serves a perfidious prince and a man without honor.” “Well, you shall see. But how to do it?” “Nothing more easy; make her father act.” “But he is buried in Anjou.” “Monseigneur, he is here in Paris.” “At your house?” “No, with his daughter. Speak to him, monseigneur, that he may see in you, not what he does now, an enemy, but a protector--that he who now curses your name may bless you.” “And when can I see him?” “As soon as you return Paris.” “Very well.” “It is agreed, then?” “Yes.” “On your word as a gentleman?” “On my faith as a prince.” “And when do you return?” “This evening; will you accompany me?” “No, I go first; where shall I meet your highness?” “To-morrow; at the king’s levee.” “I will be there, monseigneur.” Bussy did not lose a moment, and the distance that took the duke fifteen hours to accomplish, sleeping in his litter, the young man, who returned to Paris, his heart beating with joy and love, did in five, to console the baron and Diana the sooner. CHAPTER XXXIV. HOW CHICOT RETURNED TO THE LOUVRE, AND WAS RECEIVED BY THE KING HENRI III. All was quiet at the Louvre, for the king, fatigued with his pilgrimage, had not yet risen, when two men presented themselves together at the gates. “M. Chicot,” cried the younger, “how are you this morning?” “Ah, M. de Bussy.” “You come for the king’s levee, monsieur?” “And you also, I presume?” “No; I come to see M. le Duc d’Anjou. You know I have not the honor of being a favorite of his majesty’s.” “The reproach is for the king, and not for you.” “Do you come from far? I heard you were traveling.” “Yes, I was hunting. And you?”