"Not that way, if you please," said Borromée, "the lady is coming up, and she does not wish to meet any one." "You are right," said Chicot, smiling, "I will take the little staircase." "Do you know the way?" "Perfectly." And Chicot went out through a cabinet which led to another room, from which led the secret staircase. The room was full of armor, swords, muskets, and pistols. "They hide Jacques from me," thought Chicot, "and they hide the lady, therefore of course I ought to do exactly the opposite of what they want me to do. I will wait for the return of Jacques, and I will watch the mysterious lady. Oh! here is a fine shirt of mail thrown into a corner; it is much too small for the prior, and would fit me admirably. I will borrow it from Gorenflot, and give it to him again when I return." And he quietly put it on under his doublet. He had just finished when Borromée entered. Chicot pretended to be admiring the arms. "Is monsieur seeking some arms to suit him?" asked Borromée. "I! mon Dieu! what do I want with arms?" "You use them so well." "Theory, all theory; I may use my arms well, but the heart of a soldier is always wanting in a poor bourgeois like me. But time passes, and Jacques cannot be long; I will go and wait for him at the Croix Faubin." "I think that will be best." "Then you will tell him as soon as he comes?" "Yes." "And send him after me?" "I will not fail." "Thanks, Brother Borromée; I am enchanted to have made your acquaintance." He went out by the little staircase, and Borromée locked the door behind him. "I must see the lady," thought Chicot. He went out of the priory and went on the road he had named; then, when out of sight, he turned back, crept along a ditch and gained, unseen, a thick hedge which extended before the priory. Here he waited to see Jacques return or the lady go out. CHAPTER XXIV. THE AMBUSH. Chicot made a slight opening through the hedge, that he might see those who came and went. The road was almost deserted as far as he could see; there was no one but a man poorly clothed measuring the ground with a long, pointed stick. Chicot had nothing to do, and therefore was preparing to watch this man, when a more important object attracted his attention. The window of Gorenflot's room opened with folding-doors on to a balcony, and Chicot saw them open, and Gorenflot come out, with his most gallant manner and winning smile, leading a lady almost hidden under a mantle of velvet and fur. "Oh!" thought Chicot, "here is the penitent. She looks young; it is very odd, but I find resemblances in every one I see. And here comes the squire; as for him, there is no mistake; I know him, and if he be Mayneville--ventre de biche!--why should not the lady be Madame de Montpensier? And, morbleu! that woman _is_ the duchess!" After a moment, he saw the pale head of Borromée behind them. "What are they about?" thought Chicot; "does the duchess want to board with Gorenflot?"