This ill wind, however, blew fair for me, as it left me undisturbed; and sending Pierrebon to purchase or hire horses I awaited his return. It was well on in the afternoon, and the sun being hot I was resting in the shade of the garden wall, when from within a summer-house all covered with roses, that stood near to me, I heard a lute string touched by a master-hand, and a man's voice, full and clear, began to sing "The Three Cavaliers." With a rush a hundred recollections of the past came back to me, and I felt myself once more a heedless boy, sitting on that very same seat where the singer was now, and singing the same song. I rose and went forward, and to my surprise saw it was Le Brusquet, lute in hand, and by his side there sat a small brown ape, a collar of gold round his neck. I listened till the last of the song, and was about to turn away; but, the ape running out of the summer-house at the time, the jester put his head through the entrance, with a "Back! Pompon! back!" and caught sight of me. In a moment he was by my side, and, willy-nilly, forced me into the summer-house. "The very man I wanted," he said. "I came here to think of you. I always come here when in doubt or trouble--and here you are--dropped from the clouds." He poured out some wine for me, and when we had drank a health together he asked me: "_Eh bien_, monsieur, tell me how you came here; tell me all, for I am a friend." It was impossible not to see this, and in a few words I told him. He listened gravely the while, stroking his ape's head. When I had done he spoke. "I too have something to tell you. There is an outcry about Madame Diane's Italian--the first time an outcry has been made about any such scum. This morning there was a scene at the _petit couvert_. I was there. The short of it is that the King, my gossip, sided with his mistress as against Vendome. Words ran so high that the Duke was ordered to leave Paris, which he did at once." I looked at the ring on my finger, and Le Brusquet saw the look. "I fear," he said, "that little talisman has lost its power for the present; but, to go on, I had other business in the morning which I could not avoid. Towards eleven o'clock I hastened to the Rue des Lavandieres to return your sword and to warn you. To my relief you were not there. Your hermit's paradise is gone, and an angel, in the form of one of M. Morin's guards, is at the door. Instead of a flaming sword he carries an arquebus----" "It is quick work," I cut in; "and they have seized everything, I suppose?" "Yes; everything. And your ostensible accuser and witness against you is one Camus, a glove-maker. He laid an information against you at sunrise. He was with Valentinois an hour later. Diane rises with the dawn, you know; and he is her glove-maker." "So he has struck hard, and struck quickly."