Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,91

as they strolled along the crowded lanes of the great park. Then, growing worried about the heat from the blazing sun above, he had insisted on purchasing a parasol for Aude from a hawker. The parasol turned out to be cheap rubbish and broke the moment it was opened, but the young girl laughed and held onto it as a keepsake. Finally, they drank fresh orange juice at a stand, near the pit where they saw the sleeping hydras that the queen mother had presented to the king a few years previously.

And that was all that had occurred, apart from the glances and smiles . . .

Aude de Saint-Avoid was pretty, agreeable, witty and cultivated. Moreover, she was quick to wield irony with such an innocent air that she caught Laincourt by surprise several times. But above all, there was something luminous and happy about her, like a live flame, transmitted by her eyes and her smile.

Gallant to the end, Laincourt accompanied Aude from the coach to the splendid front hall of the Hotel de Chevreuse, where the maitre d'hotel informed her that madame la duchesse was waiting for her. Laincourt then wanted to withdraw but the young woman from Lorraine implored him to stay.

'Oh no, monsieur! Don't abandon me!'

'Abandon you, madame?'

'I'm sure to be scolded for our stroll,' explained Aude, half-seriously. 'I shall tell them you abducted me and you must confirm it!'

'Madame!' exclaimed Laincourt, pretending to be worried. 'Me? Accuse myself of abducting you?

I'll be thrown directly into prison.'

'Never fear. I shall arrange for your escape,' the girl whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

'Well, in that case . . .'

Thus it was on Laincourt's arm that Aude de Saint-Avoid entered the salon where madame de Chevreuse was idly perusing a book on astrology. And he learned at the same time as Aude that she had been admitted to the queen's household as a maiden-of-honour. The distinction was both immense and unexpected. In the heat of her emotion, Aude forgot all about proper form and threw herself at the duch-esse's feet, kissing her hands and calling her 'benefactress'. The duchesse, laughing, asked her to rise and when she was not obeyed, begged Laincourt to intervene. He helped Aude take a seat in an armchair and held her hand.

She cried, but her tears were those of joy.

'Will you visit me, monsieur?' she asked.

Arnaud de Laincourt smiled.

Maidens-of-honour were all of noble birth, lived under the watchful eye of a governess and did not appear in public except to accompany the queen on grand occasions. As for approaching them . . .

'Madame,' he said in a quiet voice, 'for that, I would have to be admitted to the queen's entourage as well . . .'

Before Aude could even begin to express her regret, the duchesse de Chevreuse announced in a playful tone:

'Bah! Consider it done, monsieur.'

Dusk was filling as the three riders came in sight of the inn. They had not exchanged so much as three words since leaving Ivry. Mirebeau, who led the way, did not seem to be in a talkative mood. As for Rauvin, he expressed his suspicious nature through silence and long stares which Leprat pretended to ignore. But the truth was that the man's hostility weighed on him.

Constant and insidious, it seemed designed to play on his nerves and trip him up, and thereby provoke a confrontation. Since Mirebeau acted as if nothing was going on, the musketeer was forced to put up with it. The worst part, however, was that Rauvin — deliberately — rode last. It was his way of saying that he was keeping his eye on Leprat. And he was not the kind of man that anyone wanted to have at their back ...

The riders stopped for a moment upon a hill.

The inn was still some distance away. Isolated, it was a former farm whose thick-walled buildings surrounded a courtyard defended by a massive gate. Right now, the two great doors remained open and there was movement in the lantern-lit courtyard. Most of the windows were brightly lit and festive sounds rose into the night: laughter, shouts, music and singing.

'Is that where we're going?' asked Leprat.

'Yes,' replied Mirebeau, urging his horse forward.

They reached the inn at a fast trot, dismounted after passing through the carriage gate and walked to the stable leading their horses by the bridle. Tables had been set up in the courtyard, along with a stage where musicians were playing. People were dancing. At the tables, the refrains were taken up