What more she would have said I know not, but now Maligny appeared, his arm bandaged, and leaning for support on Jean. Behind came Chandieu, a tall, dark figure. As they approached it was impossible not to be struck by Marcilly’s resemblance to Condé. In a crowd a hundred men would have sworn he was the Prince. He had the same slight, spare figure, the same red-brown hair, the same eyes, even his voice, his very gestures were the same. In the moment of excitement I had forgotten about myself, else I had not dared to face Marcilly with the consciousness of my recent shameful action upon me. It is one crowning mercy that there are moments when even the most sinful forget--even I do sometimes--for a very little. “Madame,” said Maligny, “I have come to finish what I fear I began too bluntly. It is true that the sentence has been passed, but the Chancellor has refused to affix the Great Seal, and no day has been appointed for----” and he hesitated a moment, and then went on, not finishing his sentence, though we all understood: “The King is very ill, and at any time may relent. Strange as it may seem, the Italian is veering round in our favor. The Guise grow too great, and she realizes now what that greatness will mean for her. The Admiral knows her mind, and ’tis said that the Constable will now move from Yvoy le Marron. There is a plan even now to save the Prince”; he looked at Marcilly, and then went on: “but, in the mean time, it is of the first importance that you and the young Prince should be safe from harm. Monseigneur kisses your hands, and begs you to leave Châtillon for St. Bauld, where d’Andelot lies with fifty horse to escort you to the Admiral and safety. There is one, too, who aids us in secret--I dare not give the name--and I tell you that no sword will be drawn to stay us if we leave within the next few hours. Who those wasps were who attacked me in the wood, I know not. They are done with, however, for the present. The danger now is in staying--none in going--but we must go now.” The Princess hardly seemed to hear the latter portion of Maligny’s speech. “And so the King--that boy--has signed the warrant!” she said. “But Lorraine held the pen. But they dare not! They dare not! After Navarre he is the first Prince of the blood. And is that all you have to say? Oh! Take me to him!” And she looked imploringly at us. “Madame,” began Maligny, but she broke in upon his speech. “Wait! Let me think! I know you have nothing more to say except to urge me to desert my husband. I know you are going to repeat that. Your plans and politics will break my woman’s heart. Ah! I know he will die. Have ever the merciless shown mercy? He will die, I say; but I die with him. Now hear me, Monsieur le Vicomte--and all of you. I go to Orleans--Orleans--do you hear? And I leave in an hour’s time.”