Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,97

the palace moats were cleaned. The royal court followed suit, while more ordinary Parisians were forced to shut themselves up in buildings where the atmosphere was scarcely purer than the contaminated air outside and to wait until Sunday when they could go and breathe freely in the countryside.

'I am truly sorry, monsieur. But I can only grant you a few moments. Madame la duchesse is already waiting in her coach, ready to take me to the Louvre, and—'

Laincourt turned round and saw Aude de Saint-Avoid, looking more adorable than ever in a dress he hadn't seen before. He thought she was quite ravishing, although he didn't dare say as much. But the expression on his face must have betrayed him, for she stopped speaking, smiled and blushed, her green eyes sparkling with joy.

They stood joined in silence for an instant and Laincourt resisted the desire to take hold of her hands.

'I know, madame, that you are to be presented at court today. And that you will enter the queen's household as of tomorrow. But before that, I wished to salute you and assure you of my friendship.'

'Thank you, monsieur. Thank you with all my heart.'

'I also wish to offer you a few words of advice. The royal court of France is not like the court of Lorraine. And your proximity to the queen will earn you enmity in certain quarters. Don't be fooled by false smiles, beware of hypocrites and those who aspire to a higher rank, learn to spot those who act out of self-interest and, above all, avoid getting caught up in intrigue.'

He realised that he had in fact seized her hands and that she had not withdrawn them from his grasp.

She was looking at him and listening carefully, convinced and touched by his sincerity.

He stopped speaking, without releasing her hands and without her attempting to remove them.

At least, not until they heard the sound of a throat clearing: the sad-looking madame de Jarville had come in search of her niece.

Full of life and joy, Aude de Saint-Avoid then took her leave with a rustling of silk.

'Farewell, monsieur! We'll meet again very soon!'

He did not reply, sure that fate had just separated them for good.

Coming from Ivry, Leprat and Mirebeau arrived in Paris by way of the faubourg Saint-Marcel. They rode side by side, at a walk, conversing in a friendly fashion.

These past few days spent together at Mirebeau's house had brought them together^ On the day after the famous night when Leprat had risked his life to free him, Mirebeau had pledged his friendship, solemnly but sincerely. Leprat had initially been glad to have won the trust of the duchesse de Chevreuse's agent, for the sake of his mission. Later, he had come to like Mirebeau himself. In truth, the two men resembled one another. They were of roughly the same age, both were elder sons from noble families, and both had followed military careers: Leprat with the King's Musketeers and Mirebeau in the company of guards led by monsieur des Essarts. If life had robbed them of many of their illusions, both tried to conduct themselves as gentlemen; and lastly, as they learned exchanging confidences one night over a bottle, they had both been unlucky in love and realised, to their regret, that they would no doubt never become a father.

They smelled the capital well before they actually saw it and were soon sorry they had not chosen another route. To be sure, all of Paris stank beneath the burning sun. But Paris never stank quite so much as in the vicinity of rue Mouffetard, which they rode along with tears in their eyes. Here, the nearby Bievre — a river that crossed the neighbourhood before plunging into the Seine — attracted various activities such as knackers' yards and tanneries which consumed great quantities of water and polluted both the river and the atmosphere.

It was therefore a relief to pass through the Saint-Marcel gate, despite the odour of a warmed-up old latrine that prevailed within the city walls. Finally able to breathe without keeping a hand over their nose and mouth, Leprat and Mirebeau took rue de la Montagne-Sainte-Genevieve as far as Place Maubert. They crossed the small arm of the Seine by way of the Pont au Double, thus named because use of this bridge entailed a toll of a double denier.

Mirebeau paid their fee. They passed before Notre-Dame cathedral, made their way through the maze of mediaeval streets on the Ile de la Cite,