Indeed, M. and Madame de St. Luc approached. She bowed to Monsoreau, and St. Luc gave him his hand; then, leaving his wife to Monsoreau, took Diana, and after a walk they returned, warned by the bell for dinner, which was early at Méridor, as the baron preserved the old customs. The conversation was general, and turned naturally on the Duc d’Anjou, and the movement his arrival had caused. Diana sat far from her husband, between St. Luc and the baron. CHAPTER LXIV. THE PROJECT OF M. DE ST. LUC. When the repast was over, Monsoreau took St. Luc’s arm and went out. “Do you know,” said he, “that I am very happy to have found you here, for the solitude of Méridor frightened me.” “What, with your wife? As for me, with such a companion I should find a desert delightful.” “I do not say no, but still----” “Still, what?” “I am very glad to have met you here.” “Really, monsieur, you are very polite, for I cannot believe that you could possibly fear ennui with such a companion, and such a country.” “Bah! I pass half my life in the woods.” “The more reason for being fond of them, it seems to me. I know I shall be very sorry to leave them; unluckily, I fear I shall be forced to do so before long.” “Why so?” “Oh! monsieur, when is man the arbiter of his own destiny? He is like the leaf of the tree, which the wind blows about. You are very fortunate.” “Fortunate; how?” “To live amongst these splendid trees.” “Oh! I do not think I shall stay here long; I am not so fond of nature, and I fear these woods; I think they are not safe.” “Why? on account of their loneliness, do you mean?” “No, not that, for I suppose you see friends here.” “Not a soul.” “Ah! really. How long is it since you had any visitor?” “Not since I have been here.” “Not one gentleman from the court at Angers?” “Not one.” “Impossible.” “It is true.” “Then I am wrong.” “Perfectly; but why is not the park safe, are there bears here?” “Oh, no.” “Wolves?” “No.” “Robbers?” “Perhaps. Tell me, monsieur, Madame de St. Luc seemed to me very pretty; is she not?” “Why, yes.” “Does she often walk in the park?” “Often; she adores the woods, like myself.” “And do you accompany her?” “Always.” “Nearly always?” “What the devil are you driving at?” “Oh; mon Dieu, nothing; or, at least, a trifle.” “I listen.” “They told me----” “Well?” “You will not be angry?” “I never am so.” “Besides, between husbands, these confidences are right; they told me a man had been seen wandering in the park.” “A man.” “Yes.” “Who came for my wife?” “Oh! I do not say that.” “You would be wrong not to tell me, my dear Monsoreau. Who saw him? pray tell me.” “Oh! to tell you the truth, I do not think it was for Madame de St. Luc that he came.” “For whom, then?” “Ah! I fear it is for Diana.” “Oh! I should like that better.” “What?” “Certainly; you know we husbands are an egotistical set. Everyone for himself, and God for us all.” “The devil rather.”