"We must do nothing, keep perfectly quiet," said Lauriane with decision. "The prince is galloping south at this moment and will not think of us again for some time." "That is true," said the marquis; "he is off at full speed, in order to reach the king's side first, and to grasp the power that Monsieur de Luynes enjoyed, if not the favor. He will have to fight hard for it! Retz, Schomberg and Puisieux will want their share of the cake, to say nothing of the fact that madame the queen-mother and her little Bishop of Luçon will give them some thread to wind! Bah! our petty affairs have already gone out of our _good_ prince's head, and will never enter it again perhaps. If only he did not issue any orders against us before he came hither!" "No, monsieur, there is no danger!" said Adamas. "He had his eye on your treasure, the amount of which must have been grossly exaggerated to him, since so great a prince does us the honor to call upon us for so small a matter. Now we are warned; we can easily hide our little hoard and leave trunks filled with débris for the satisfaction of the curious. The secret exit from the château will be kept in good condition, and we will be on our guard against people who ask for shelter from the rain. But be assured that, if the prince does not come here again in person, nobody else will think of doing it; for if he has given any orders at all, they are that no one shall come and put his hand on the dish upon which he has placed his powerful paw." Adamas's reasoning was very sound. He concluded by calling down a thousand maledictions on Bellinde, who alone could have discovered and divulged Master Jovelin's real name, the death of D'Alvimar and the existence of the treasure. It was decided that they should consult with Guillaume d'Ars as to the propriety of announcing D'Alvimar's death or continuing to keep it secret; and to that end the marquis called upon him the following day, in the afternoon. Guillaume was absent and was not to return until evening. The marquis sent a messenger to Briantes to bid them not be anxious if he returned late, and went to pay a visit to Monsieur Robin de Coulogne, who was then making a brief sojourn at his estate of Coudray, a pretty château on the heights of Verneuil, about a league from the château of Ars. Robin, Vicomte de Coulogne, receiver-general of taxes in Berry and farmer-general of the salt tax, was one of the natural enemies of the ex-salt-smuggler Bois-Doré; and yet they had been the closest of friends since the affair of Florimond Dupuy, lord of Vatan. Those who know the history of Berry will remember that in 1611, Florimond Dupuy, a fervent Huguenot and a great smuggler, had, to show his detestation of the salt tax, kidnapped one of Monsieur Robin's children. The marquis generously exerted himself to restore the child to its father, at the risk of a rupture with Florimond, who was, according to both friends and enemies, "a very uncomfortable bedfellow."