"No, Diane; and all his treasures and all his power could not make up to them for losing you." "Ah, that's your way of looking at it. But you did frighten me, Gabriel. But never fear, dear; François de Montmorency doesn't think as you do on this subject, thank God! and he would much prefer the bâton which will make a marshal of him, to your poor Diane. But I, having accepted this happy exchange, will prepare the king for it very gently. I will remind him of the royal alliances of the D'Exmès family, and of your own personal exploits, Gabriel." She interrupted herself. "Ah, _mon Dieu_! see, the play seems to be finished." "Five acts, how short it has been!" said Gabriel. "But you are right, Diane; and the epilogue is just pointing the moral of the piece." "Luckily," said Diane, "we have said almost all that we had to say to each other." "I haven't said one thousandth part of it," said Gabriel. "No, nor I really," said Diane; "and the queen's advances to you." "Oh, you wretch!" said Gabriel. "Oh, no, the wretch is she who smiles at you, and not I who grumble at you, do you hear? Don't speak to her again this evening, will you, dear, just to please me?" "Just to please you! How good you are! No, I will not speak to her again. But, see, the epilogue is also finished, alas! Adieu! but only for a little while, is it, Diane? Say one last word to me to sustain and comfort me, dear Diane." "To meet soon again, and forever, Gabriel, my little _husband_," whispered the beaming maiden in the ear of the delighted Gabriel. And she disappeared in the pushing, noisy crowd. Gabriel slunk away so as to fulfil his promise of avoiding a meeting with the queen. Such touching fidelity to his oath! And he left the Louvre, convinced that Antoine de Baïf was a very great man, and that he had never been present at a performance which had given him so much pleasure. As he passed into the vestibule, he picked up Martin-Guerre, who was awaiting him, all radiant in his new clothes. "Well, Monseigneur, did you see Madame d'Angoulême?" the squire asked his master when they were in the street. "I did see her," replied Gabriel, dreamily. "And does Madame d'Angoulême still love Monsieur le Vicomte?" continued Martin-Guerre, who saw that Gabriel was in a good humor. "Rascal!" cried Gabriel, "who told you that? Where did you learn that Madame de Castro loved me, or that I loved Madame de Castro alone? Be good enough to hold your tongue, villain!" "Oh, well," muttered Master Martin, "Monseigneur must be beloved, else he would have sighed and would not have insulted me; and Monseigneur must be in love or he would have noticed my new cape and breeches." "Why do you prate to me of breeches and cape? But really, you didn't have that doublet a short time ago, did you?"