To-night, as he assisted me to undress, it wore an expression of
supreme woe.
"Monseigneur is going into Languedoc?" he inquired sorrowfully.
He always called me his "seigneur," as did the other of my servants
born at Bardelys.
"Knave, you have been listening," said I.
"But, monseigneur," he explained, "when Monsieur le Comte de
Chatellerault laid his wager--"
"And have I not told you, Ganymede, that when you chance to be among
my friends you should hear nothing but the words addressed to you,
see nothing but the glasses that need replenishing? But, there! We
are going into Languedoc. What of it?"
"They say that war may break out at any moment," he groaned; "that
Monsieur le Duc de Montmorency is receiving reenforcements from
Spain, and that he intends to uphold the standard of Monsieur and
the rights of the province against the encroachments of His
Eminence the Cardinal."
"So! We are becoming politicians, eh, Ganymede? And how shall
all this concern us? Had you listened more attentively, you had
learnt that we go to Languedoc to seek a wife, and not to concern
ourselves with Cardinals and Dukes. Now let me sleep ere the sun
rises."
On the morrow I attended the levee, and I applied to His Majesty
for leave to absent myself. But upon hearing that it was into
Languedoc I went, he frowned inquiry. Trouble enough was his
brother already making in that province. I explained that I went
to seek a wife, and deeming all subterfuge dangerous, since it might
only serve to provoke him when later he came to learn the lady's
name, I told him - withholding yet all mention of the wager - that
I fostered the hope of making Mademoiselle de Lavedan my marquise.
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