"It is too dark for him to see her. His Eminence said nothing about
Monsieur le Chevalier speaking to any one he could not see."
"Thanks, Messieurs, thanks!" And the Chevalier hastened to the
_caleche_. "Mademoiselle . . ."
"Monsieur," she interrupted, "I have a message for you. A certain lady
whom we both know requests me to say that she forbids you further to
address her. Her reasons . . . Well, she gives none. As for me,
Monsieur, I believe you to be a gentleman and a man of honor who is
above exile and calumny."
"God bless you, Mademoiselle. Tell her for me that whatever her
indictments are, I am innocent; and that we do not love when we do not
trust."
She gave him a curious glance. "You have not yet discovered who she
is?"
"No, Mademoiselle. Will you tell me?"
"She is . . . No; to tell you would be wrong and it would do you no
good. Forget her, Chevalier. I should." And she drew the curtain and
ordered her lackeys to drive on.
"It is snowing," said the Chevalier, irrelevantly, when the musketeers
rejoined him.
"So it is, so it is," one replied. "Put on your hat, Monsieur, or my
word for it, you will catch a devil of a chill.
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