"Ah! you are right. He is but a simple gentleman, and if he do
not reply, I shall know what to say."

"What?"

"Tell him he is impertinent." And, turning from the prince, Bussy
approached M. de Monsoreau, who was in the midst of the circle.

Bussy approached, gay and smiling, and his hat in his hand.

"Pardon, monsieur, but you seem all alone. Is it that the favor
which you enjoy has already made you enemies?"

"I do not know, monsieur, but it is probable. But, may I ask,
to what I owe the honor that you do me in invading my solitude?"

"Ma foi, to the great admiration that M. le Duc d'Anjou has inspired
in me for you."

"How so?"

"By recounting to me the exploit for which you were made chief
huntsman."

M. de Monsoreau grew so frightfully pale, that the marks in his
face looked like black spots on his yellow skin; at the same
time he looked at Bussy in a manner that portended a violent
storm. Bussy saw that he had done wrong; but he was not a man
to draw back; on the contrary, he was one of those who generally