Here D'Aubin was met by no less a personage than Armandi the perfumer, who, bowing low and reverently, welcomed him to his house, and then led him on through several chambers, each more tastefully decorated than the other, into one where eastern luxury itself was outdone, and where Madame de Montpensier was waiting the guest she had invited there to supper. Strange as it may seem that the highest and noblest in such a capital as Paris should abandon their own convenient and splendid dwellings, to make these little parties at the houses of inferior, and often of very base and dishonourable persons, yet the custom was not restricted to this period of French history, but even in the succeeding reigns the monarch himself was frequently known thus to indulge; and the custom, which was begun probably with political views, or for the sake of a temporary relaxation from the fetters of state, was found to be too convenient for a debauched court to be readily abandoned. "True to your appointment, most noble Count," said the Duchess, in a light tone. "I augur from your punctuality, that all goes well and happily with the heretics and tyrants beyond the walls, so that they can spare the services of so gallant a cavalier as the Count d'Aubin." "The fact is, most beautiful Lady Catherine," replied D'Aubin, whose plan was already fixed, "that their majesties are waiting till the day after to-morrow, ere they begin serious operations against the city; for, first, with that brilliant forgetfulness which characterises great men, they did not remember till yesterday that fifteen hundred cannon-balls are hardly enough to begin a regular bombardment; and, secondly, they wished that my worthy cousin should bring up his troops on the side of St. Denis, in order to straiten you a little in your diet, as they are resolved, absolutely, to try whether your stomachs are not like that of the ostrich, and capable of digesting mere iron in default of other food. They must therefore wait a day to give time for casting bullets and marching men." D'Aubin spoke with so much of his ordinary levity, that he left Madame de Montpensier still doubtful whether he spoke in earnest or in jest--whether he was saying what was really the case, or from some particular motive was endeavouring to deceive her. "You seem in a mood for revelations to-night," she said. "Thank you for your warning, Monsieur d'Aubin, we shall be upon our guard; but whether the two kings will thank you for telling us, remains to be proved." "I care very little whether they thank me or not," replied D'Aubin; "besides, what I have said can do you no good, and them no harm, otherwise I should not have told it. You are here in a net, fair lady; and you must employ some other means to get yourself free than those you have hitherto employed, or depend upon it, the fisherman will put in his hand and take you."