"I should prefer the black robe to a crimson one, madame. The latter reminds one too much, amongst other things, of the blood of the martyrs." It was a crushing retort, and one to which there was no answer, for the affair of the tailor of St. Antoine's was fresh in all minds. Something like a murmur went up from those around. The Duchess gave a little gasp; but, preserving her composure with an effort, turned and walked away, her head in the air, but wounded to the quick. The crowd followed her, but one figure remained--a man with a white, drawn face and dark circles under his eyes. Thrice he made a movement as if to step up to us and say something, but each time his courage failed him; and then, turning, he too hastily followed the others. And from my soul I pitied De Ganache. CHAPTER XXV THE PACKET OF LETTERS We were left alone together, the bronze satyr leering down upon us as if in mockery. La Valentinois stood at the other end of the Terrace surrounded by her Court, and ever and again there were whisperings amongst them, and strange glances bent towards us. We might have been plague-stricken, in such manner did all shrink from us. "Mademoiselle," I said, "you have been too rash. Look!" And I glanced at the group around Diane de Poitiers. She followed my eyes, and a little smile played upon her lips. "I care not, nor do I fear her." "But, mademoiselle, there are others who fear for you, and that has happened which you must hear. Not here! Come away from this, where we will be secure from prying eyes." For a little she seemed to hesitate, and then: "Very well, monsieur; the air will, perhaps, be purer away from here." So, side by side, we went down the steps together, and I felt, rather than heard or saw, the mutterings and the glances that followed us. On the other side of the lawn, facing the Ladies' Terrace and leading towards the riding-school, is a walk hedged in with high shrubbery on either hand. We followed this about half way up its length, and then passing through a narrow wicket found ourselves in a part of the gardens to which few, if any, of the Court ever went. Here, amidst a bewildering maze of rose bushes running almost wild, stood an old oak. There was a little clearing at its base, around which a rough seat was placed; and here, sitting by her side, I told mademoiselle what I knew, and of the crisis that had arrived. Invisible ourselves, we could from where we were see the Gallery of Apollo and the council hall; and as I ended a figure appeared at one of the windows and waved a 'kerchief in the direction of the Ladies' Terrace. It was the King. "See!" and I pointed to the window, "there is the King, and you can guess to whom he signals. Whilst we talk here the council is over, and the peril is at hand."