“It is well!” said the duke, in a hollow voice, “you are free; go, M. de Bussy.” Bussy, without caring for the prince’s evident anger, ran down the staircase of the Louvre, and went rapidly to his own house. The duke called Aurilly. “Well! he has condemned himself,” said he. “Does he not follow you?” “No.” “He goes to the rendezvous?” “Yes.” “Then it is for this evening?” “It is.” “Is M. de Monsoreau warned?” “Of the rendezvous--yes; but not yet of the man.” “Then you have decided to sacrifice the count?” “I have determined to revenge myself; I fear now but one thing.” “What is that?” “That Monsoreau will trust to his strength, and that Bussy will escape him.” “Reassure yourself, monseigneur.” “Why?” “Is M. de Bussy irrevocably condemned?” “Yes, mordieu! A man who dictates to me--who takes away from me her whom I was seeking for--who is a sort of lion, of whom I am less the master than the keeper--yes, Aurilly, he is condemned without mercy.” “Well, then, be easy, for if he escape Monsoreau, he will not escape from another.” “And who is that?” “Does your highness order me to name him?” “Yes, I do.” “It is M. d’Epernon.” “D’Epernon! who was to fight him to-morrow?” “Yes, monseigneur.” “How is that?” Aurilly was about to reply, when the duke was summoned; for the king was at table, and had sent for his brother. “You shall tell me during the procession,” said the duke. We will now tell our readers what had passed between Aurilly and D’Epernon. They had long known each other, for Aurilly had taught D’Epernon to play on the lute, and, as he was fond of music, they were often together. He called upon Aurilly to tell him of his approaching duel, which disquieted him not a little. Bravery was never one of D’Epernon’s prominent qualities, and he looked on a duel with Bussy as certain death. When Aurilly heard it, he told D’Epernon that Bussy practised fencing every morning with an artist, lately arrived, who was said to have borrowed from all nations their best points, until he had become perfect. During this recital D’Epernon grew livid with terror. “Ah! I am doomed,” said he. “Well?” “But it is absurd to go out with a man who is sure to kill me.” “You should have thought of that before making the engagement.” “Peste! I will break the engagement.” “He is a fool who gives up his life willingly at twenty-five. But, now I think of it----” “Well.” “M. de Bussy is sure to kill me.” “I do not doubt it.” “Then it will not be a duel, but an assassination.” “Perhaps so.” “And if it be, it is lawful to prevent an assassination by----” “By?” “A murder.” “Doubtless.” “What prevents me, since he wishes to kill me, from killing him first?” “Oh, mon Dieu! nothing; I thought of that myself.” “It is only natural.” “Very natural.” “Only, instead of killing him with my own hands, I will leave it to others.” “That is to say, you will hire assassins?” “Ma foi! yes, like M. de Guise for St. Megrim.”