“But he shall be freed, or you, Monsieur of Arles, will answer for it.” And now I could wait to hear no more. My scattered senses were recovering themselves. I could not linger until all knew my shame, and this they would know soon enough, for such things travel like lightning from mouth to mouth. Lorgnac was still near to me. He still believed me to be a man of honor. He would help me once more, and bending forward I said to him: “Monsieur! Can you get me out of this? I--I must go.” He nodded and smiled. Then putting his arm through mine, he led me along the passage into the courtyard. None dared to hinder him. Even if they had dared, they could have done nothing, for everywhere around us were the Queen’s guards. The gates, too, were no longer kept by the archers, but by grim-looking men in a strange uniform of sombre black. “They are the gendarmes of Aunis,” said Lorgnac, as we passed the gates. “And, now, adieu! I suppose I shall see you to-morrow at the palace, in the Prince’s suite.” I took the hand he held out to me for a moment, and, muttering my thanks, turned hastily and mingled with the crowd on the pavement, leaving Lorgnac staring after me in astonishment at my abrupt departure. In a crowd one is soon lost, and in the uncertain light it would have required sharp eyes to have recognized me, as I threaded my way through the heaving throng. Not that I gave a thought to recapture. My mind was absorbed with one idea, and that was to put miles between me and the scene of my shame. For the moment I was tortured by neither remorse nor fear. I seemed dead to all sensations. All that I wanted was to quit Orleans.