“Did you not know? As you are here, did you not expect me?” said the prince, with an air of suspicion which did not escape Bussy, who began to reflect that his secret residence in Anjou might seem very strange to the prince. “I did better than expect you,” said Bussy, “and as you wish to enter the town before the gates are closed, jump into the saddle, monseigneur.” The prince accepted, and Bussy mounted behind him, asking himself if this prince, dressed in black, were not the evil spirit sent already to disturb his happiness. “Where do we go now, monseigneur?” said he, as they entered the city. “To the castle. Let them hoist my banner and convoke the nobility of the district.” “Nothing more easy,” said Bussy, full of surprise, but willing to be docile. The news was soon spread through the city that the duke had arrived, and a crowd soon collected. “Gentlemen!” cried the duke, “I have come to throw myself into my good city of Angers. At Paris the most terrible dangers have menaced my life--I had lost even my liberty. I succeeded in escaping, thanks to some good friends, and now I am here I feel my tranquillity and my life assured.” The people cried, “Long live our seigneur.” “Now let me sup,” said the prince, “I have had nothing since the morning.” The city was illuminated, guns were fired, the bells of the cathedral were rung, and the wind carried to Méridor the noisy joy of the good Angevins. CHAPTER LVI. THE DIPLOMACY OF THE DUC D’ANJOU. When the duke and Bussy were left alone, the duke said, “Let us talk.” François, who was very quick, had perceived that Bussy had made more advances to him than usual, therefore he judged that he was in some embarrassing situation, and that he might, by a little address, get an advantage over him. But Bussy had had time to prepare himself, and he was quite ready. “Yes, let us talk, monseigneur,” replied he. “The last day I saw you, my poor Bussy, you were very ill.” “It is true, monseigneur, I was very ill, and it was almost a miracle that saved me.” “There was near you a doctor very devoted to you, for he growled at everyone who approached you.” “True, prince, Rémy loves me.” “He kept you rigorously to your bed, did he not?” “At which I was in a great rage, as your highness might have seen.” “But, if that were the case, why did you not send the doctor to the devil, and come out with me as I begged you to do? But as it was a grave affair, you were afraid to compromise yourself.” “Did you say I was afraid?” “I did say so.” “Well, then, it was a lie!” said Bussy, jumping up from his chair; “you lied to yourself, monseigneur, for you do not believe a single word of what you say. There are twenty scars on my body, which prove the contrary. I never knew fear, and, ma foi, I know people who cannot say the same.”