“Well, be quick, monseigneur, what do you want? When one serves a prince, and he dissimulates to the extent of calling you his friend, one must pay for the dissimulation by being ready to sacrifice everything, even life, if necessary.” The duke colored, but it was too dark to see it. “I wanted nothing of you, Bussy, and you deceive yourself in thinking my visit interested. I desire only, seeing the fine evening, and that all Paris is out to sign the League, that you should accompany me a little about the streets.” Bussy looked at him. “Have you not Aurilly to go with you?” “A lute-player!” “Ah, monseigneur, you do not mention all his qualities; I believed that he fulfilled other functions for you. Besides, you have a dozen other gentlemen; I hear them in the ante-chamber.” At this moment the door opened. “Who is there?” said the duke, haughtily. “Who enters unannounced where I am?” “I, Rémy,” replied the young man, without any embarrassment. “Who is Rémy?” “The doctor, monseigneur,” said the young man. “And my friend,” said Bussy. “You heard what monseigneur asks?” continued he, turning to Rémy. “Yes, that you should accompany him; but----” “But what?” said the duke. “But you cannot do it!” “And why so?” cried the duke. “Because it is too cold out of doors.” “Too cold!” cried the duke, surprised that any one should oppose him. “Yes, too cold. Therefore I, who answer for M. Bussy’s life to himself and to his friends, must forbid him to go out.” And he pressed Bussy’s hand in a significant manner. “Very well,” said the duke, “if the risk be so great, he must stay.” And he turned angrily to the door; but returning to the bed, he said, “Then you have decided not to come?” “Monseigneur, you hear that the doctor forbids me.” “You ought to see Miron, he is a great doctor.” “I prefer my friend.” “Then adieu.” “Adieu, monseigneur.” No sooner was the duke gone than Rémy said, “Now, monsieur, get up at once, if you please.” “What for?” “To come out with me. This room is too warm.” “You said just now to the duke that it was too cold outside.” “The temperature has changed since.” “So that----” said Bussy, with curiosity. “So that now I am convinced that the air will do you good.” “I do not understand.” “Do you understand the medicines I give you? Yet you take them. Come, get up; a walk with M. d’Anjou is dangerous, with me it is healthy. Have you lost confidence in me? If so, send me away.” “Well, as you wish it.” And he rose, pale and trembling. “An interesting paleness,” said Rémy. “But where are we going?” “To a place where I have analyzed the air to-day.” “And this air?” “Is sovereign for your complaint, monseigneur.” Bussy dressed, and they went out. CHAPTER XLIII. ETYMOLOGY OF THE RUE DE LA JUSSIENNE. Rémy took his patient by the arm, and led him by the Rue Coquillière down to the rampart. “It is strange,” said Bussy, “you take me near the marsh of the Grange-Batelier, and call it healthy.”