"I form part of a body of gentlemen, madame." "That is what I mean. They are all Gascons, are they not?" "Yes, madame." "How many are there? I forget." "Forty-five." "What a singular number!" "I believe it was chance." "And these forty-five gentlemen never quit the king, you say?" "I did not say so, madame." "Ah! I thought you did; at least, you said you had very little liberty." "It is true, I have very little; because by day we are on service near the king, and at night we stay at the Louvre." "In the evening?" "Yes." "Every evening?" "Nearly." "What would have happened then this evening, if your duty had kept you? I, who waited for you, and should have been ignorant of the cause of your absence, should have thought my advances despised." "Ah! madame, to see you I will risk all, I swear to you." "It would be useless and absurd; I do not wish it." "But then--" "Do your duty; I will arrange, who am free and mistress of my time." "What goodness, madame!" "But you have not explained to me," said the duchess, with her insinuating smile, "how you happened to be free this evening, and how you came." "This evening, madame, I was thinking of asking permission of De Loignac, our captain, who is very kind to me, when the order came to give a night's holiday to the Forty-five." "And on what account was this leave given?" "As recompense, I believe, madame, for a somewhat fatiguing service yesterday at Vincennes." "Ah! very well." "Therefore to this circumstance I owe the pleasure of seeing you to-night at my ease." "Well! listen, Carmainges," said the duchess, with a gentle familiarity which filled the heart of the young man with joy; "this is what you must do, whenever you think you shall be at liberty--send a note here to the hostess, and every day I will send a man to inquire." "Oh! mon Dieu! madame, you are too good!" "What is that noise?" said the duchess, laying her hand on his arm. Indeed, a noise of spurs, of voices, of doors shutting, and joyous exclamations, came from the room below, like the echo of an invasion. Ernanton looked out. "It is my companions," said he, "who have come here to spend their holiday." "But by what chance? just where we are." "Because it is just here, madame, that we each had a rendezvous on our arrival, and on the happy day of their entry in Paris my friends conceived an affection for the wine and the cooking of M. Fournichon. But you, how did you come to choose this place?" "I chose, and you will easily understand that, the most deserted part of Paris, a place near the river, where no one was likely to recognize me, or suspect that I could come; but, mon Dieu! how noisy your companions are." Indeed, the noise was becoming a perfect storm, but all at once they heard a sound of footsteps on the little staircase which led to their room, and Madame Fournichon's voice, crying, from below, "M. de St. Maline, M. de St. Maline!" "Well!" replied the young man. "Do not go up there, I beg!"