“‘If it be the count?’ asked Gertrude. ‘You must open to him; he has kept his promises, and I must keep mine.’ A moment after he entered. ‘Well, madame,’ said he, ‘have I kept my word?’ ‘Yes, monsieur, and I thank you for it.’ ‘Then you will receive me?’ said he, with an ironical smile. ‘Enter, monsieur,’ said I, ‘have you any news?’ ‘Of what, madame?’ ‘Of my father, firstly?’ ‘I have not been to Méridor and have not seen the baron.’ ‘Then of Beaugé, and the Duc d’Anjou?’ ‘I have been to Beaugé, and have spoken to the duke.’ ‘What does he say?’ ‘He appears to doubt.’ ‘Of what?’ ‘Of your death.’ ‘But you confirmed it?’ ‘I did all I could.’ ‘Where is the duke?’ I then asked. ‘He returned to Paris yesterday. One does not like to stay in a place where one has the death of a woman to reproach one’s self with.’ ‘Have you seen him in Paris?’ ‘I have just left him.’ ‘Did he speak of me?’ ‘I did not give him time; I spoke incessantly of a promise which he made to me.’ ‘What is it?’ ‘He promised me as a reward for services rendered to him, to make, me chief huntsman.’ ‘Ah, yes,’ said I, thinking of my poor Daphné ‘you are a terrible hunter, I know.’ ‘It is not for, that reason I obtain it, but the duke dare not be ungrateful to me.’ “‘Can I write to my father?’ said I. ‘Doubtless; but your letters may be intercepted.’ ‘Am I forbidden to go out?’ ‘Nothing is forbidden; but I beg to point out to you that you may be followed.’ ‘At least I must go on Sunday to mass.’ ‘It would be better not; but if you do, I advise you to go to St. Catherine.’ ‘Where is that?’ ‘Just opposite you.’ There was a silence. Then I said, ‘When shall I see you again, monsieur?’ ‘When I have your permission to come.’ ‘Do you need it?’ ‘Certainly, as yet I am a stranger to you.’ ‘Monsieur,’ said I, half frightened at this unnatural submission, ‘you can return when you like, or when you think you have anything important to communicate.’ “‘Thanks, madame,’ said he, ‘I will use your permission, but not abuse it. I know you do not love me, and I will not abuse a situation which forces you to receive me. You will, I trust, gradually become accustomed to the thought, and be willing, when the moment shall arrive, to become my wife.’ ‘Monsieur,’ said I, ‘I appreciate your delicacy and frankness. I will use the same frankness. I had a prejudice against you, which I trust that time will cure.’ ‘Permit me,’ said he, ‘to partake this anticipation and live in the hopes of that happy moment.’ Then bowing respectfully, he went out.” CHAPTER XV. THE MARRIAGE. “A strange man,” said Bussy.