"Monseigneur, you said to me the other night, 'Bussy, I hate
all those minions of the king's who are always laughing at and
insulting us; go to this wedding of St. Luc's, pick a quarrel
and try to get rid of them.' I went; they were five and I was
alone. I defied them all; they laid wait for me, attacked me
all together, and killed my horse, yet I wounded three of them.
To-day you ask me to wrong a woman. Pardon, monseigneur, but that
is past the service which a prince should exact from a gallant
man, and I refuse."

"So be it; I will do my work myself, or with Aurilly, as I have
done already."

"Oh!" said Bussy, with a sudden thought.

"What?"

"Were you engaged on it the night when you saw the ambush laid
for me?"

"Just so."

"Then your beautiful unknown lives near the Bastile."

"Opposite the Rue St. Catherine. It is a dangerous place, as you
know."

"Has your highness been there since?"

"Yesterday."