"Ah! madame," said he, "from this moment I am rich and happy; for I am to be always with you, I am never to leave you more, I shall be happy in the privilege of seeing you, and rich in your love." "There is no further obstacle, then?" "No." "You belong to me absolutely, and, while keeping your heart, I may offer your arm to Madame la Princesse?" "You may." "You have sent your resignation, do you say?" "Not yet; I wished to see you first; but, as I told you, now that I have seen you again, I propose to write it here, instantly. I preferred to wait until I could do it in obedience to your orders." "Write, then, before anything else! If you do not write, you will be looked upon as a turncoat; indeed, you must wait, before taking any decisive step, until your resignation is accepted." "Dear little diplomatist, have no fear that they will not accept it, and very gladly. My bungling at Chantilly will spare them any great regret. Did they not tell me," laughed Canolles, "that I was a poor fool?" "Yes; but we will make up to you for any opinion they may entertain, never fear. Your affair at Chantilly will be more thoroughly appreciated at Bordeaux than at Paris, I assure you. But write, baron, write, so that we may leave this place! for I confess that I am not at ease by any means in this inn." "Are you speaking of the past; is it the memory of another time that terrifies you so?" said Canolles, gazing fondly about the room. "No. I am speaking of the present, and you do not enter into my fears to-day." "Whom do you fear, pray? What have you to fear?" "_Mon Dieu!_ who knows?" At that moment, as if to justify the viscountess's apprehension, three blows were struck upon the door with appalling solemnity. Claire and Canolles ceased their conversation and exchanged an anxious, questioning glance. "In the king's name!" said a voice outside. "Open!" The next moment the fragile door was shattered. Canolles attempted to seize his sword, but a man had already stepped between his sword and him. "What does this mean?" he demanded. "You are Monsieur le Baron de Canolles, are you not?" "I am." "Captain in the Navailles regiment?" "Yes." "Sent upon a confidential mission by the Duc d'Épernon?" Canolles nodded his head. "In that case, in the names of the king, and her Majesty the Queen Regent, I arrest you." "Your warrant?" "Here it is." "But, monsieur," said Canolles, handing back the paper after he had glanced over it rapidly, "it seems to me that I know you." "Know me! _Parbleu!_ Wasn't it in the same village where I arrest you to-day, that I brought you an order from Monsieur le Duc d'Épernon to betake yourself to the court? Your fortune was in that commission, my young gentleman. You have missed it; so much the worse for you!" Claire turned pale, and fell weeping upon a chair; she had recognized the impertinent questioner. "Monsieur de Mazarin is taking his revenge," muttered Canolles.