in I mounted my horse, without any attendant.  When I came to the Place-Royale, the servant, who was sentry there, assured me that no person was yet gone into Mademoiselle de l’Orme’s house:  I rode forward towards the Rue Saint Antoine; and, just as I was going out of the Place-Royale, I saw a man on foot coming into it, who avoided me as much as he possibly could; but his endeavour was all to no purpose; I knew him to be the Duke de Brissac, and I no longer doubted but he was my rival that night:  I then approached towards him, seeming as if I feared I mistook my man; and, alighting with a very busy air ‘Brissac, my friend,’ said I, ’you must do me a service of the very greatest importance:  I have an appointment, for the first time, with a girl who lives very near this place; and, as this visit is only to concert measures, I shall make but a very short stay:  be so kind, therefore, as to lend me your cloak, and walk my horse about a little, until I return; but, above all, do not go far from this place:  you see that I use you freely like a friend; but you know it is upon condition that you may take the same liberty with me.’  I took his cloak, without waiting for his answer, and he took my horse by the bridle, and followed me with his eye; but he gained no intelligence by this; for, after having pretended to go into a house opposite to him, I slipped under the piazzas to Mademoiselle de l’Orme’s, where the door was opened as soon as I knocked.  I was so much muffled up in Brissac’s cloak that I was taken for him:  the door was immediately shut, not the least question asked me; and having none to ask myself I went straight to the lady’s chamber.  I found her upon a couch in the most agreeable and genteelest deshabille imaginable:  she never in her life looked so handsome, nor was so greatly surprised; and, seeing her speechless and confounded:  ‘What is the matter, my fair one?’ said I, ’methinks this is a headache very elegantly set off; but your headache, to all appearance, is now gone?’ ‘Not in the least,’ said she, ’I can scarce support it, and you will oblige me in going away that I may go to bed.’  ’As for your going to bed, to that I have not the least objection,’ said I, ’but as for my going away, that cannot be, my little princess:  the Chevalier de Grammont is no fool; a woman does not dress herself with so much care for nothing.’  ‘You will find, however,’ said she, ’that it is for nothing; for you may depend upon it that you shall be no gainer by it.’  ‘What!’ said I, ‘after having made me an appointment!’ ‘Well,’ replied she hastily, ’though I had made you fifty, it still depends upon me, whether I chose to keep them or not, and you must submit if I do not.’  ’This might do very well,’ said I, ‘if it was not to give it to another.’  Mademoiselle de l’Orme, as haughty as a woman of the greatest virtue, and as passionate as one who has the least, was irritated at a suspicion which gave her more concern than confusion; and seeing that