'Maitre Pantin, I forgot myself--will you help yourself to the Frontignac?' 'A hundred thanks, monsieur le chevalier. Is there any message for Palin? _Pouf!_ But I forget. What has a handsome young spark like you got in common with an old greybeard? You will be at court in a week; and they will all be there--bright-eyed D'Entragues, Mary of Guise, Charlotte de Givry, and----' 'Maitre Pantin, these details of the court do not interest me. Tell Palin I would see him as soon as he arrives. Ask him as a favour to come here. He said you were discreet----' 'And I know that Monsieur le Chevalier is likewise.' With a quick movement of the hand the short grey goatee that Pantin wore vanished from his chin, and there was before me not the face of the notary, but that of Annette. She laughed out at the amaze in my look, but quickly changed her tone. 'Maitre Palin said you were to be trusted utterly, monsieur, and you see I have done so. Your message will be safely delivered, and I promise he will see you. But have you no other?' 'None,' I answered, a little bitterly. 'I have, however, and it is this,' and she placed in my hand a little packet. 'Monsieur may open that at his leisure,' and she turned as if to go. 'One moment--I do not understand. What is the meaning of this masquerade?' 'Only this, that my husband will appear to have been at the same time at the Quartier du Marais as well as the Faubourg St. Germain. I would add that Monsieur would be wise to keep indoors as he is doing. We have found out that the house is being watched. Good-night, monsieur,' and, with a nod of her wrinkled face, this strange woman vanished. I appeared in truth to be the sport of mystery, and it seemed as if one of those sudden gusts of anger to which I was subject was coming on me. I controlled myself with an effort, and with a turn of my fingers tore open the packet, and in it lay my lost knot of ribbon. For a moment the room swam round me, and I became as cold as ice. Then came the revulsion, and with trembling fingers I raised the token to my lips and kissed it a hundred times. There were no written words with it; there was nothing but this little worn bow! but it told a whole story to me. It had come down to me, that ribbon that Marescot said was hung too high for de Breuil of Auriac; and God alone knows how I swore to guard it, and how my heart thanked him for his goodness to me. For ten long minutes I was in fairyland, and then I saw myself as I was, proscribed and poor, almost in the hands of powerful enemies, striving to fight an almost hopeless cause with nothing on my side and everything against me. Even were it otherwise, the rock of Auriac was too bare to link with the broad lands of Pelouse and Bidache, and, love her as I did, I could never hang my sword in my wife's halls. It was impossible, utterly impossible. So I was tossed now one way, now another, until my mental agony was almost insupportable.