Nanon thereupon pretended to be sleeping soundly; almost immediately the duke began to snore. At that, Nanon opened her eyes, and by the glimmer of the night-light in its alabaster vessel on a table by the bed, she tried to take the duke's own tablets from his doublet, which was within her reach; but just as she had the pencil in her hand, and was about tearing off a leaf of paper, the duke opened one eye. "What are you doing, my love?" he asked. "I was looking to see if there isn't a calendar in your tablets." "For what purpose?" "To see when your birthday comes." "My name is Louis, and my birthday falls on August 25th, as you know; so you have abundant time to prepare for it, dear heart." And he took the tablets from her hands and replaced them in his doublet. By this last manœuvre, Nanon had at all events secured pencil and paper. She stowed them away under her bolster, and very adroitly overturned the night-light, hoping to be able to write in the dark; but the duke immediately rang for Francinette, and loudly demanded a light, declaring that he could not sleep unless he could see. Francinette came running in before Nanon had had time to write half of her sentence, and the duke, to avoid another similar mishap, bade the maid place two candles on the chimney-piece. Thereupon Nanon declared that she could not sleep with so much light, and resolutely turned her face to the wall, awaiting the dawn in feverish impatience and anxiety easy to understand. The dreaded day broke at last, and bedimmed the light of the two candles. Monsieur le Duc d'Épernon, who prided himself upon his strict adherence to a military mode of life, rose as the first ray of dawn stole in through the jalousies, dressed without assistance, in order not to leave his little Nanon for an instant, donned his _robe de chambre_, and rang to ask if there were any news. Francinette replied by handing him a bundle of despatches which Courtauvaux, his favorite outrider, had brought during the night. The duke began to unseal them and to read with one eye; the other eye, to which he sought to impart the most affectionate expression he could command, he did not once remove from Nanon. Nanon would have torn him in pieces if she could. "Do you know what you ought to do, my dear?" said he, after he had read a portion of the despatches. "No, monseigneur; but if you will give your orders, they shall be obeyed." "You should send for your brother," said the duke. "I have here a letter from Bordeaux containing the information I desired, and he might start instantly, so that when he returned, I should have an excuse for giving him the promotion you suggest." The duke's face was a picture of open-hearted benevolence.