"Au plaisir de vous revoir, Messieurs," I shouted. "Come to me one by one,
and I'll keep the devil busy finding lodgings for you."
They answered me with a yell, and I sat down content, and laughed.
"You are not a coward, Monsieur," said the dark lady.
"I have been accounted many unsavoury things, Madame, but my bitterest
enemies never dubbed me that."
"Why, then, did you run away?"
"Why? Ma foi! because in the excessive humility of my soul I recognised
myself unfit to die."
She bit her lip and her tiny foot beat impatiently upon the floor.
"You are trifling with me, Monsieur. Where do you wish to alight?"
"Pray let that give you no concern; I can assure you that I am in no
haste."
"You become impertinent, sir," she cried angrily. "Answer me, where are
you going?"
"Where am I going? Oh, ah--to the Palais Royal."
Her eyes opened very wide at that, and wandered over me with a look that
was passing eloquent. Indeed, I was a sorry spectacle for any woman's
eyes--particularly a pretty one's. Splashed from head to foot with mud, my
doublet saturated and my beaver dripping, with the feather hanging limp and
broken, whilst there was a rent in my breeches that had been made by
Canaples's sword, I take it that I had not the air of a courtier, and that
when I said that I went to the Palais Royal she might have justly held me
to be the adventurous lover of some kitchen wench.
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