“Surely your Grace hath never lacked in excellent taste, and that is the talk of Paris,” replied Law.

“Oh, well, long training bringeth perfection in due time,” replied Philippe of Orleans, composedly, it having no ill effect with him to call attention to his numerous intrigues.  “It should hardly be called a poor privilege, after all, to witness the results of that highly cultivated taste, as it shall be displayed this evening, not to mention the privilege you will have of meeting one or two other gentlemen; and lastly, of course, myself, if you be not tired of such company.”

“Your Grace,” replied Law, “you both honor and flatter me.”

“Why, sir, you speak as if this were a new experience for you.  Now, in the days—­”

“’Tis true; but of late years I have grown grave in the cares of state, as your Grace may know.”

“And most efficiently,” replied the regent.  “But stay!  I have kept until the last my main attraction.  You shall witness there, I give you my word, the making public of the secret of the fair unknown who is reputed to have been especially kind to Philippe of Orleans for these some months past.  Join us at the little enterprise, my friend, and you shall see, I promise you, the most beautiful woman in Paris, crowned with the greatest gem of all the world.  The regent’s diamond, that great gem which you have made possible for France, shall, for the first time, and for one evening at least, adorn the forehead of the regent’s queen of beauty!”

As the gay words of the regent fell upon his ears, there came into Law’s heart a curious tension, a presentiment, a feeling as though some great and curious thing were about to happen.  Yet ever the challenge of danger was one to draw him forward, not to hold him back.  If for a moment he had hesitated, his mind was now suddenly resolved.

“Your Grace,” said he, “your wish is for me command, and certainly in this instance is peculiarly agreeable.”

“As I thought,” replied the regent.  “Had you hesitated, I should have called your attention to the fact that the table of the Palais Royal is considered to possess somewhat of character.  The Vicomte de Bechamel is at the very zenith of his genius, and he daily produces dishes such as all Paris has not ever dreamed.  Moreover, we have been fortunate in some recent additions of most excellent vin d’Ai.  I make no doubt, upon the whole, we shall find somewhat with which to occupy ourselves.”

Thus it came about that, upon that evening, there gathered at the entrance of the Palais Royal, after an evening with Lecouvreur at the Theatre Francais, some scattered groups of persons evidently possessing consequence.  The chairs of others, from more distant locations, threading their way through the narrow, dark and unlighted streets of the old, crude capital of France, brought their passengers in time to a scene far different from that of the gloomy streets.