gardeners. The Marquise, however, had caught a glimpse of a figure she was beginning to know by heart too well. Captain George had of late, indeed ever since Cerise came home, contracted a habit of traversing the gardens of the Hôtel Montmirail to visit a post of his musketeers in the neighbourhood. These guards were permitted to enter everywhere, and Madame de Montmirail was the last person to interfere, in this instance, with their privileges. So little annoyance, indeed, did she seem to experience from the intrusion, that the windows of her boudoir were generally wide open at this hour of the day. Though to visit this post might be a necessary military precaution, it was obviously a duty requiring promptitude less than consideration. Captain George usually walked slowly through the garden, and returned in a very short time at the same deliberate pace. The Marquise knew perfectly well that it took him exactly ten minutes by the clock in her boudoir. When she sat down again, Malletort, without noticing her movement or her confusion, proceeded in a sincere and affectionate tone—
"I need not explain more clearly, madame; I need not urge my motives nor dwell upon my own self-sacrifice. It is sufficient for the Abbé to see his peerless cousin set out on her journey to fame, and to feel that he has indicated the shortest path. There are obstacles, no doubt; but for what purpose do obstacles exist save to be surmounted or swept away? Let us take them as they come. I can count them all on the fingers of my hand." The Abbé began systematically at his thumb. "The young King and Madame d'Orleans are already disposed of, or, at worst, soon will be, in the common course of events. Remain—the roués—Madame de Sabran, and Madame Parabére. Of these, I can manage the first without assistance. I have influence with the whole gang. Some may be persuaded, others intimidated, all can be bribed. I anticipate no opposition worth speaking of from the male element, fond of pleasure, fond of wine, and embarrassed as they are good for nothing. With the last two it is different. Madame de Sabran is witty, handsome, and well-bred; but she spares no person, however exalted, in her sarcasm, and the Regent fears her tongue while he is oppressed with her society.
