“And you have allowed Diane to accompany him?” demanded Saint-Vallier, with a look of agony. “Mort-Dieu! I could not prevent it,” replied Maulévrier--“even if I had the wish,” he added to himself. Saint-Vallier made no remark, but it was easy to perceive his anguish. Greatly excited by the unlooked-for intelligence, Bourbon could scarcely rest upon the couch. “I cannot comprehend why the king should depart so suddenly,” he said to Warthy. “Has he taken the troops with him?” “No,” replied the other. “He is only attended by the archers of the royal guard, and the young nobles forming his retinue. The Grand-Master and the Duke de Longueville are left behind with their men.” “For what purpose?” demanded Bourbon, sternly. “To keep guard upon the château and the town,” replied Warthy. Bourbon exchanged a glance with his followers, which did not pass unobserved by Warthy. “His majesty's parting order,” remarked that vigilant personage, “was that no one--not even your highness--should be allowed to quit the château till to-morrow.” “Ha! By Saint Paul, it would seem we are prisoners, messeigneurs!” exclaimed the Constable, fiercely. An indignant response was made by his adherents. “No offence is intended to your highness by his majesty,” said Warthy. “It is a mere measure of precaution--nothing more.” Then, turning to Saint-Vallier, he added: “M. le Comte, it is the king's pleasure that you proceed to Lyons to-morrow.” “I will go now!” cried Saint-Vallier. “That may not be,” replied the other. “As I have just said, no one must quit the château to-day, on any pretext whatever.” “The keys of the château have been entrusted to me,” said Maulévrier, “To-morrow I shall return them to the Seigneur des Ecures, your highness's chamberlain. If you have aught to say to me,” he added to Saint-Vallier, “you will find me in the great hall.” So saying, he quitted the chamber. “Why do you not go too, sir?” cried Bourbon, fiercely, to Warthy, finding that the latter remained. “His majesty's injunctions to me were----” “Leave me,” interrupted Bourbon. “I cannot disobey the king,” cried the pertinacious Warthy. But his remonstrances were cut short by Pomperant and the others, who forced him out of the room. “Will no one deliver me from this plague?” exclaimed the Constable, springing from his couch. “We will,” replied several voices. “Be advised by me, cousin, and do him no mischief, endure--but bear it. By skilful management, aided by your physicians, you may lead this spy to give such reports to the king as may cause him to set out for Italy without you. Hitherto, as you know, I have strenuously opposed the plot, but my opinion is now changed. I would have it succeed. Be prudent, cousin, and our wrongs shall be avenged.” “I will follow your counsel,” rejoined Bourbon. “But do you intend to obey the king's order, and proceed to Lyons?”