And I answered, “He was my love.” “Was--was,” she repeated. “Well--I see. They take other fancies.” “You was sold yourself--is it not true?” I muttered. “Ay,” she answered, and sighed. “But it was for gold.” “_You_ can forgive, then, and forget,” I said; “but not I--no, never.” “You would ruin him?” “Yes, and her.” “Bring him to the gallows?” “That is why I sent for you. You can trust me.” “And in the meantime you fear for yourself?” “I struck her. He tried to stab me. I cried, _Vive le Roi!_ You know what that means.” “Cry _Vive la Reine_ for the future. ’Tis the sweet saint who suffers most. Well, it seems the truth at last; and you have your provocation--by God, you have! Only for me, having one different, to help myself by you?--it goes against my stomach somehow. I wish it was your principles instead of your jealousy.” “Help me in nothing but to some place of safety, where I can inform and direct the court. _It_ will not be troubled with your ladyship’s scruples.” “How do you know? ’Tis so you have been taught to regard my sweet queen, I suppose?” “O, madam!” I cried, “you know what made me an ardent pupil.” She stood musing upon me long and earnestly. “Yes, perhaps,” she said at length, and sighed; “what a fool preacher is Love, not to be able to keep his own faith! To drive woman for refuge on woman--’tis like banishing your physician to the enemy’s camp. Well”--she took my hands; I thought she was going to kiss me, but she made no offer--“for myself, I don’t want to hear none of your inculpations; but I’ll put you in train to satisfy your passions on others that may. Will that suit you?” She turned before I could answer, and was going. “It must be soon,” I urged hoarsely, following her; “O, madam! don’t you understand that it must be soon?” “Within an hour or two,” she said, over her shoulder. “Have no fear. You are already protected--and watched.” I set myself, with what self-control I could, to await her return; for, after our emotional confidences, I expected nothing less than that she would come for me presently in person. But in that I was mistaken, as was made evident in the ushering up to me by and by of a very courtly young gentleman, of a shrewd, sallow visage, who informed me, with a bow, that he was Love’s emissary. “His Majesty, sir,” I said, with a faint smile, and some intentional ambiguity, “is well represented. Do we go to the palace?” “We go,” he said, “_to_ the palace. Will madam be pleased to accept my escort?” I took the arm he offered me. In view of some such contingency, I had spent the interval in making my toilette agreeably to it. He conducted me out by the back way to the stables, where, in a little court, we found an ordinary post-chaise, with two horses, awaiting us.