"Oh, you are perfectly clear, viscount."
"Nay, madame, if you will permit me, I do not wish to leave you in ignorance upon any point. It may be that force will fail to effect our purpose with this devil of a man. In that event, we shall have recourse to stratagem; if he escapes my bravos in his Hôtel in broad daylight, they will meet him again some night by accident in a lonely street, and—they have daggers, madame, as well as swords."
"I understand," said the duchess, nor did she turn a shade paler while listening to this little scheme of assassination.
"Well, madame?"
"Well, viscount, I see that you are a man of precautions, and that it's not well to be numbered among your enemies, deuce take me!"
"But touching the affair itself, madame?"
"'T is serious, in very truth, and is perhaps worth reflecting upon; but what was I saying? Every one knows, the king himself included, that this man has wounded me grievously in my pride. I hate him as bitterly as I hate my husband or Madame Diane, and i' faith I think that I can promise you—What is it, Isabeau? why do you interrupt us?"
The duchess's last words were addressed to one of her women, who entered hurriedly in a state of intense excitement.
"Mon Dieu! madame," said she, "I ask madame's pardon, but the Florentine artist, Benvenuto Cellini, is below with the loveliest little golden vase you can imagine. He said very courteously that he has come to present it to your ladyship, and he requests the favor of speaking with you a moment."
"Aha!" exclaimed the duchess, with an expression of gratified pride; "what reply did you make to him, Isabeau?"