"At all events, not for the things you speak of." "Not just now, perhaps, but later you will return to them." "Never, brother; I desire nothing--I want nothing." "You are wrong. When one is called 'Joyeuse,' one of the best names in France, when one has a brother a king's favorite, one desires everything, and has everything." Henri hung his blond head sadly. "Come," continued Anne, "we are quite alone here; have you anything to tell me?" "Nothing, but that I love." "Diable! that is not a very serious affair; I also am in love." "Not like me, brother." "I, also, think sometimes of my mistress." "Yes, but not always." "I, also, have annoyances." "Yes; but you also have joys, for you are loved." "True; but I have obstacles. They exact from me so much mystery." "They exact! If your mistress exacts, she loves you." "Yes, she loves me and M. de Mayenne--or rather only me, for she would give up Mayenne at once if she was not afraid he would kill her; it is his habit to kill women, you know. I am obliged to be constantly on my guard, but I do not grow sad on that account; I continue to laugh--at least, sometimes. Tell me, Henri, is your lady beautiful?" "Alas! she is not mine." "Is she beautiful? Her name?" "I do not know it." "Come, now." "On my honor." "My friend, I begin to think it is more dangerous than I thought; it is not sadness, but madness." "She never spoke but once before me, and since then I have not heard the sound of her voice." "And you have not inquired about her?" "Of whom?" "Why, of the neighbors." "She lives in her own house, and no one knows her." "Ah! _ça!_ then she is a ghost!" "She is a woman, tall and beautiful as a nymph, serious and grave as the angel Gabriel!" "When did you meet her?" "One day I followed a young girl to the church of La Gypecienne, and I entered a little garden close to it, where there is a stone seat under some trees. Do you know this garden, Anne?" "No; but never mind--go on." "It began to grow dark; I had lost sight of the young girl, and in seeking her I arrived at this seat. I saw a woman's dress, and held out my hands. 'Pardon, monsieur,' said the voice of a man whom I had not noticed, and he gently but firmly pushed me away." "He dared to touch you, Henri?"