About a month after the events I have just described I received the Queen's commands to attend her at St. Germain-en-Laye, and that very evening rode through the gates of the Vieux Chateau. From the time that I had placed mademoiselle in safety in Catherine's hands, with the aid of the two best friends man ever had, I had not seen her. She had been ill, but was now recovered, and when I received the Queen's message, I hoped that, perhaps, Fortune would give me a chance to say farewell to Diane ere I departed for Italy to join Montluc. The Spanish war had broken out, and De Lorgnac was in the field at Marienbourg. Le Brusquet had gone, none knew whither--perchance to see the pears of Besme--and as for me, I felt it was time to be up and stirring. Things had changed with me, for I was now the Vidame d'Orrain, and I might hope and dream again. Moved by these thoughts I rode into the palace gates, followed by Pierrebon, and Monsieur de Tolendal, who was in waiting, at once took me to the Queen. I found Catherine surrounded by her ladies, but though my eyes searched here, there, and everywhere I could not see the face I longed to see. The Queen engaged me for a few moments in desultory talk, and then at a sign from her we were left alone together. "Monsieur le Vidame," she said, "is it true that you leave for Italy in a few days?" I bowed in silence. "And you are resolved?" "Madame!" "In that case, perhaps, it is needless for me to say what I intended; but, as a matter of fact, I have a government I would willingly surrender, and thought of offering it to you." "Madame!" I began; but she cut in upon my words. "Take a moment to consider, monsieur! Go into the next room, through that curtain there, and think over it for five minutes. Then come back and tell me. Go!" For a second I stared at her, and then did as I was bidden. As I stepped in a figure rose from a seat near the window, and I heard Diane's voice: "Orrain, you have come to see me at last!" And then what followed concerns not anyone. I know not how long we were there, talking, planning, and dreaming; but suddenly the curtains lifted, and Catherine stood before us. "Monsieur d'Orrain," she said, "I await my answer." And then she burst out laughing. There is but a word more to add, and my story ends. We were married the following week, for that was the Queen's wish, and then my wife and I said farewell to Paris and the Court for ever. As we rode one evening on our way to Orrain, round the elbow of the pine-clad hill of St. Hugo, and the towers of the Chateau came in sight, I told my wife of my dream, and then we were aware of a figure galloping up the leaf-strewn road towards us. It was Le Brusquet on his mule. "_Eh bien_!" he said as he kissed my wife's hand. "And I am the first to welcome you home, after all! Orrain, _mon ami_, I have seen your pears. They are finer than mine--I swear it!"