The Chevalier d'Auriac

by S. Levett Yeats

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE LOUVRE

  It wanted full ten minutes to the hour when I rode through the gatesof the Hotel de Belin, and a moment or so after was with my friend. Hewas standing in the great hall as I entered, in the midst of a smallbut brilliantly dressed group of cavaliers. On my being announced,however, he came forward to meet me with outstretched arms.

  '_Pardieu!_' he exclaimed, stepping back a half-pace after ourgreeting, 'so you have dropped the Huguenot? We poor devils will havebut a bad time of it if you turn courtier.'

  'Is that likely?' I asked, a little bitterly, and then, in a low tone,'have you made Ravaillac safe?'

  'He has made himself safe,' he whispered, 'he is gone.'

  'Gone?'

  'Yes--vanished. It is, perhaps, best so. We will discuss him later,'and, raising his voice, 'come, let me present you to my friends,' andhe led me up to his companions, who, gathered in a little knot nearthe huge fireplace, stood surveying us with a well-bred curiosity.

  'Gentlemen, permit me to introduce my old comrade, the Chevalierd'Auriac--the Duc de Bellegarde, whom we all call M. le Grand, theVicompte de Vitry, the Seigneur de Valryn, and the Chevalierd'Aubusson, who, like you, d'Auriac, is new to the court.'

  'And who is delighted to meet with an old acquaintance, and truststhat M. de Preaulx is in as good a way.'

  'As the company from Paradise--eh, chevalier?' I put in.

  'Fairly hit,' exclaimed the lieutenant, and then he must needs tellthe story of our little adventure, at which there was much laughter,and it was easy to see that the Marshal and Zamet had no friends inthe Rue de Bourdonnais.

  'Come, gentlemen,' said de Belin, 'if we delay longer we shall missthe cinque-pace--one health round, and let us start.'

  As he spoke, a number of long-necked glasses filled with the wine ofChampagne were brought to us. Holding his glass high above his head,de Belin called out:

  'Gentlemen--the King.'

  The toast was drunk with a cheer in which my voice alone was still;but I joined with the others in shivering my glass to fragments on thewhite marble of the floor, and then, a gay, laughing crowd, we tookhorse for the Louvre.

  As we trotted along, I could not help wondering to myself at my ownoutward gaiety, and whether the same bright mask covered thoughts asdark as mine in my companions' hearts. Who, on looking at de Belin andhearing the frivol of his talk, or on casting a glance at the red andhonest face of de Vitry, would imagine that these men were hilt-deepin the intrigues of the court? Perhaps the stately Bellegarde, thecynical lord of Valryn, the Thersites of his day, whose ribald tonguehad silenced even de Sancy, and that devil-may-care d'Aubusson, wereup to the elbows in the same pie!

  Absorbed for a moment or so in these reflections I became silent, andwas only aroused by Bellegarde riding up alongside of me and callingout--

  'A tester for your thoughts, chevalier, and three hundred pistoles foryour nag.'

  'My thoughts would be expensive at that price, duc, and the pistoleswill not buy Couronne.'

  '_Morbleu!_ Then name your own price. 'Tis just such a horse as that Ihave dreamed of to lead the King's House against M. de Savoye.'

  'I may need her for the Italian war myself, monseigneur. No, Couronneis not for sale. She bears too heavy a stake for us to part.'

  Bellegarde looked at me curiously on my speech, and I half repented ofmy last words; but he said no more, and a second or so later we werepast the Magasins and approaching the main entrance to the Louvre.

  The sight before us was gay beyond description. All the good commonsof Paris had thronged to see the court re-open, and to catch aglimpse, and perhaps a wave of the hand, from the King, whom they nowloved with their whole hearts. They came all in their gayest, and asthe cheerful crowd swayed backwards and forwards beyond the long lineof guards that kept the entrance to the palace free, it was for allthe world like a bank of flowers stirred by the wind.

  But it was not the commons alone that had gathered there. From withinthe palace itself we caught the continual flashes of silvered armour,the sheen of silk and satin, the waving of plumes and the glitter ofjewels, and, far as the eye could stretch along the river-face, therewas an apparently endless cavalcade approaching the Louvre. In thatgreat heaving crowd, wherein all the strength of France was gathered,we saw, as the wind caught the banners and spread them to thesunlight, that there was hardly a house in France but was representedhere, from the lordly seigneurs of Champagne and Guienne, with theirsplendid followings, to the poor knights of Gascony and Bearn, who hadnot a tower that was not in ruins amongst them, and could barelymaintain the brace of starveling lackeys that rode at the heels ofeach of these lean-pursed but long-sworded gentlemen. Here one saw thewhite shield of Couci, the lilies of Conde, the griffins of Epernon,there the cross of Croye, the star of d'Andelot, the red handof d'Auvergne, and the black wolves on the golden shield of LaRoche-Guyon, the proudest lord of Burgundy, who traced his descent farback into the mists beyond the middle ages.

  Absorbed as I was in my own troubles, I could not restrain a feelingof pride that rose within me at the scene. Down through that roaringcrowd that cheered them again and again as they passed, it was as ifall the old historic names of France had gathered to do honour to theday. And I felt, too, as I looked at the endless sea of heads, thatthis was no longer a France at murderous war with itself, but a unitedand powerful nation that was being led onwards to its destiny by thestrong hand of a man who had quenched a fratricidal struggle; and forthe moment I forgot how small he could be who was yet so great.

  I had yet to learn how great he could be; and here, as I write theselines in my study in the watch tower of Auriac, round which thesea-gulls circle and scream, my old eyes grow dim, and I lay down mypen and wonder for a moment at His will, which did not shield thatbrave heart from an assassin's blow.

  The throng was so thick that for a time we were unable to gain apassage, and were compelled to go at a walking pace, and Belin,reining in his fretting beast, exclaimed, 'Faith! 'tis the largestgathering I have ever seen.'

  'All France is here to-day,' said de Valryn. 'There go d'Ossat, andhis Eminence fresh from the Quirinal.'

  'I wonder d'Ossat did not win his red hat as well as Monseigneur ofEvreux,' said de Vitry.

  'Ah! he is so unlike the Cardinal,' replied de Valryn.

  'How do you mean?'

  'In this way. His Eminence deceives but he never lies; the Bishop, onthe other hand, lies, but he never deceives.'

  'It would cost you your regiment if the King heard that, de Valryn.'

  'On the contrary, I am sure it will get to his ears, and then I couldalmost hope for the vacant baton, though 'tis said that is already inOrnano's hand--see, there is the Constable's banner!'

  'And Bouillon too--the stormy petrel is back from Sedan--I almostsniff war in the air.'

  'Oh, he has taken to himself a wife--See! He has quartered the arms ofLa Marck on his scutcheon.'

  '_Si dieu ne me vult, le diable me prye_,' said d'Aubusson, readingthe scroll on the banner of Turenne; and then, the crowd giving wayfor a moment, we took the opportunity and passed through the gates ofthe Louvre. So full did we find the Petite Galerie on our entrance,that it was impossible to see or to observe who was there, and allthat I was conscious of, as I slowly made my way forwards at the heelsof de Belin, was the sound of music, the murmur of voices, and therippling of gay laughter. In front of us was the noble stairway thatled to the Galerie d'Apollon, and between the silent and statue-likefigures of the King's House who lined the steps, and who still woretheir violet sashes in token of mourning for the death of Gabrielle,there seemed an endless train of men and women advancing upwards.Amongst the jewelled clusters of fair and dainty dames, my eye soughtin vain for the face of Madame; but my glance was, for the moment,arrested by the graceful figure of the celebrated La Noirmoutiers, as,with one arched and scarlet-shod foot resting on the white marble ofthe topmost step of the stair
way, she turned to address some laughingremark to the cavalier who was her escort. I had not seen her since Iwas a boy of fifteen; but years had not changed her--her eyes were aslustrous, her cheeks as pink and dimpled as when she trailed thehonour of Lorraine in the dust, and broke the heart of Joyeuse. Icould not restrain a feeling of pity for the man upon whom she was nowturning the light of her cruel beauty, for there was that in hishonest eyes that showed he would do for her what Mornay, what Joyeuse,what Francis of Lorraine had done.

  'Who is the man?' I bent forward and whispered to de Belin.

  'Poor de Rethelois, who held La Fere so well against us. I fear hewill find holding his heart a harder task.'

  'He has capitulated already, I think,' I answered, and then she restedone small gloved hand on her escort's arm and they passed out ofsight.

  By this time I had collected myself to some degree, and began to tryand rapidly rehearse in my mind what I should say when I came face toface with the King, but I am not ashamed to confess that at eachattempt I found myself getting more and more hopelessly confused, andfinally, dropping the effort, determined to let the occasion find itsown words. At last we were on the stairway, and in twenty steps hadentered the great hall which Henry had built himself, and which wasknown as the Galerie d'Apollon. Except for the vacant space round thestill empty throne, the full length of its seventy yards was almost asmuch crowded as the hall below; but here the music was much louder,though the laughter and talk was not less merry and incessant. Therewas not, of course, nearly so much movement, and the people were moreor less gathered in little knots or groups, though there were many gaybutterflies flitting from one of these to the other.

  'Keep by me,' said de Belin, and almost as he spoke we came face toface with Tavannes, de Gie, and de Cosse-Brissac, all dressed in theextreme of fashion. Belin saluted coldly, but my heart warmed towardsmy old comrades in arms, and I stretched out my hand. This de Gie tooklimply, but Tavannes and de Cosse-Brissac contented themselves withbows of the politest ceremony. The Vicompte de Gie was, however,effusive in speech if chill in manner.

  'It is not everyone who could tear a hole in the Edict as you havedone, d'Auriac,' he said; and then added with a smile, 'but who madeyour cloak? 'Tis a trifle longer than we wear it here.'

  'It is short enough for me to see the King in,' I answered a littlecrisply.

  'The King!' exclaimed both Tavannes and Brissac, a marked interest intheir tones.

  'My dear fellow,' said de Gie, interrupting my reply, 'I knew youwould fall on your feet; see here,' and stepping right up to me, hethrew open my cloak slightly with a turn of his wrist, 'wear it so,d'Auriac; it shows your cross of St. Denis now.' Then dropping hisvoice, 'friend or foe? Are you for the Marshal or the Master-General?'

  'I am here for a short time,' I replied. 'I have come to see the King.I neither understand nor care about your intrigues.'

  'I understand perfectly, monsieur,' he said, falling back, ahalf-smile on his lips, and, bowing to each other, we passed on indifferent ways, they down, and I up the hall to join de Belin, who hadgone a few paces ahead.

  'The King is still in his cabinet,' he said, pointing to a closeddoor, before which a sentry stood on guard. 'I go in at once. When Icome out let it be the signal for you to join me. I will then presentyou; and mind--speak freely.'

  'I mean to,' I answered, and with a nod he passed up through thepress. I leaned against the pillar near which I was standing andsurveyed the crowd. Madame was nowhere there, or else I had missedher. Perhaps it was better so, for did I see her I might be unnerved;and here Bellegarde joined me.

  'Do you see her?' he asked.

  'See whom?' I answered, with a start and an eager look around.

  '_La belle_ Henriette. See, there she stands! A little court aroundher, with the brightest eyes and the sharpest tongue in France. Iwager a hundred pistoles she will rule us all some day.'

  As events showed, Bellegarde was right, though that concerns not thisstory. I followed his glance, and saw Mademoiselle d'Entraguessurrounded by a group of admirers, with whom she was bandying jest andrepartee. I saw before me a tall, slight woman, beautiful in a wicked,imperious way, her eyes as black as night, and her features exquisite,but marred in every line, to my mind, by their look of pride. Inever saw her again but once, and that was at Bois Lancy, where theonce-powerful Marquise de Verneuil had gone to hide her shame.

  It was a pleasanter sight to turn from this girl, who was even thenweighing the price of her honour, to the cluster of fair faces aroundthe tabouret of Madame Catherine, the King's sister, now the Duchessede Bar. Close to the Princess was Mary of Guise, and within a few feetof her were the wives and daughters of Rohan, de Pangeas, de Guiche,and d'Andelot. I did not, of course, know who they were, butBellegarde pointed them out one by one, and then suddenly waved hishand in greeting to a man.

  'Ah, there is Pimental! one moment, chevalier,' and he left me to joinhis friend. I was again alone, and resigned myself to patience, when avoice seemed to whisper over my shoulder:

  'If M. le Chevalier will kindly survey the other side of the room,perhaps he will be equally interested.'

  I turned round sharply. There was no one whom I could recognise as theperson who had addressed me. On the other hand, however, I blessed himin my heart, for not ten feet away was Madame, radiant and beautiful,with Palin by her side, and M. d'Ayen, with his arm in a silkensling, bowing before her. He was pressing the tips of her fingers tohis lips when our eyes met, and, drawing away her hand, she made ahalf-movement towards me. I was by her side in a moment, and as weshook hands she said with a smile:

  'So we have met again, chevalier! In the Louvre, above all places!'This with a slight rising of colour.

  'I thought I had missed you. I was looking for you everywhere, and hadgiven you up. I of course knew you were in Paris.'

  'But the Rue Varenne was too distant a land to journey to? Come,'she added as I began to protest, 'give me your arm and take methere'--she indicated the upper end of the room--'the crush is not sogreat there. It is frightful here. M. d'Ayen will, I know, excuse me.'

  Here d'Ayen, who stood glaring at me and biting at the red feathers inhis hat which he held in his hand, interposed:

  'I was in hopes that Madame would give me the pleasure,' he began.

  'Another day, perhaps, baron,' I cut in rudely enough. 'I trust,' Iadded in a kinder tone, 'that your arm does not incommode you?'

  'It will heal soon,' he said in a thick voice, and turned awayabruptly.

  'He is very angry,' Madame said, following him with her eyes.

  'That will heal too, I hope. This way is easiest, I think,' and Imoved onwards with my charge, still, however, keeping an eye on thedoor of the cabinet.

  'Do you know,' I said a moment or so later, 'I am indebted to anunknown friend for finding out you were here?'

  'Indeed!' she replied seriously enough, though her eyes were smiling;'perhaps I ought not to tell you, but I saw you and told Coiffier tolet you know I was here.'

  'Coiffier, the astrologer!'

  'Yes--do you not see him there? He is a brother of Pantin, and devotedto my house; a strange man though, and at times I almost fear him.'

  I looked in the direction she indicated, and saw a tall man, dressedlike any ordinary cavalier of the court, except for his cloak, whichwas of extreme length, and fell almost to his heels. He, however, woreno sword, but held in his hand a small rod of ebony, with a goldenball at the end. This was the celebrated astrologer Coiffier, who hadforetold the death of Henry III., and who, it is said, never died, butwas taken away bodily by the Evil One. How far this is true I knownot, but it was common report when he disappeared for ever.

  'He is much unlike Pantin,' I remarked; 'no one would take them forbrothers.'

  'And yet they are--and Pantin always says he is the younger, too.'

  And now, as we made our way slowly towards the upper end of the room,I began to get tongue-tied, and Madame, too, said nothing. Finally, Iblurted out, 'I am to see
the King in a few minutes.'

  She looked down and half-whispered, 'God give you success.'

  'Amen!' I echoed to her prayer.

  And then, in a way that people have when their hearts are full ofgrave things, we began to talk of matters light as air.

  'The King is late to-day,' Madame said, glancing at the still closeddoor of the cabinet, near which a curious crowd had gathered; 'perhapsthe cinque-pace will not come off,' she ran on, 'Monsieur de Guichetold me that the King was to open it with Mademoiselle d'Entragues. Doyou not see her there? That lovely, black-eyed girl, talking tohalf-a-dozen people at once.'

  'Is she so very beautiful?'

  'What a question to ask! I do not see a woman in the room to comparewith her.'

  'To my mind her profile is too hard.'

  'Indeed!' Madame's face, with its soft though clear outlines, was halfturned from me as she spoke. 'I suppose, then, you do not care forher--a man never thinks with a woman in the matter of beauty. But Idid think you would admire Mademoiselle.'

  'Why should I, even supposing she was beautiful? To my mind there aretwo kinds of beauty.'

  And here I was interrupted by the sound of cheering from the PetiteGalerie, and the sudden hush that fell on the room. As we moved downto see for whom the crush was parting on either side, we discoveredthat it was the Marshal himself, and close at his heels were Lafin,with his sinister smile, and a dozen gentlemen, amongst whom Iobserved the grim figure of Adam de Gomeron. Madame saw thefree-lance, too, and then turned her eyes to mine. She read theunspoken question in my look, her eyes met mine, and through herhalf-parted lips a low whisper came to me--'Never--never.'

  'They are coming straight towards us,' I said, 'we will stand here andlet them pass,' and with her fingers still resting on my arm we moveda pace or so aside. As Biron came up there was almost a shout ofwelcome, and he bowed to the right and left of him as though he werethe King himself. He was then the foremost subject in France, and inthe heyday of his strength and power. In person he was of middleheight, but carried himself with unexampled grace and dignity ofmanner. His short beard was cut to a peak, and from beneath hisstraight eyebrows, his keen and deep-set eyes, those eyes which Mariede Medici said hall-marked him for a traitor, _avec ses yeux noirsenfonces_, seemed to turn their searchlights here, there, andeverywhere at once. His dress, like all about the man, was full ofdisplay. He wore a suit of grey satin, a short black velvet cloak heldby a splendid emerald and diamond clasp, and carried a hat plumed withwhite and black feathers. His sword hilt and the buckles on his shoesflashed with gems. As he came onwards, making straight for the door ofthe cabinet, Coiffier stepped out of the crowd and held him lightly byhis cloak. The Marshal turned on him sharply: 'Let me go, I have notime for mummeries.' 'Very well, my lord, only I should adviseMonseigneur never again to wear a suit such as he is attired in atpresent.'

  Biron stopped, and we all gathered closer.

  'Why, Coiffier?' he asked, in a tone of affected gaiety, but with anervous manner.

  'Because, monseigneur, I dreamed that I saw you early one morningstanding, dressed as you are just now, by the block in the yard of theBastille.'

  One or two of the women almost shrieked, and a murmur went up fromthose who heard the words. As for the Marshal, his face grew pale andthen flushed darkly.

  'You are mad, my friend,' he said hoarsely, and then, with his headdown, went straight to the door of the cabinet. It seemed to open ofits own accord as he came up to it, and, leaving his suite behind, hepassed in to the King.

  Little did I think of the prophecy until that August dawn, when Istood by the side of the Lieutenant of Montigny and saw the head ofCharles de Gontaut, Duc de Biron, and Marshal of France, held up tothe shuddering spectators in the red hand of Monsieur of Paris.

  'It almost seems as if I shall not have my interview,' I said toMadame a minute or so later, when the commotion caused by Coiffier hadceased.

  'When were you to go in?' she asked.

  'As soon as ever M. de Belin came out to summon me.'

  'Then here he is,' and as she spoke I saw the door open, and Belinlooked out. 'Go,' she said, and then our eyes met and I stepped up tothe cabinet.

  'Courage,' whispered Belin, and I was before the King. In the firsttwo steps I took on entering the room, I perceived that there had beena scene; Sully was standing against the open window, his back to thelight, and gravely stroking his beard. The Marshal was pacingbackwards and forwards in an agitated manner, and the King himself wasleaning against a high desk, beating a tattoo with his fingers on theveneer.

  As de Belin presented me, I bent to my knee, and there was a deadsilence, broken only by Henry renewing the quick, impatient tapping ofhis fingers on the woodwork of the desk. He was, what was unusual withhim when in Paris, in half armour, and perhaps in compliment to theKing of Spain, for it was the anniversary of the treaty of Vervins,wore the scarlet and ermine-lined mantle of the _Toison d'Or_. In thesilence my eyes unconsciously caught the glitter of the collar, and Icould almost read the device, '_Pretium non vile laborum_,' on thependant fleece.

  'You may rise, monsieur,' the King said at last coldly, and added,'and you may speak. It is because I understand that you broke the lawsunwittingly that I have for the moment excused you--now what have youto say?'

  As he spoke his piercing eyes met me full in the face, and for themoment I could not find words.

  '_Ventre St. Gris!_' and Henry picked up a melocotin from a salverthat was by him and played with it between his fingers; 'you could nothave been born under the two cows on a field _or_, else you would havefound tongue ere this, M. d'Auriac. You are not of the south, areyou?'

  'No, sire, though my father was Governor of Provence, and married intothe Foix Candale.'

  'If so, you should be a perfect Chrysostom. What have you to say?'

  I had regained my courage by this and took the matter in both hands.'Your Majesty, I will speak--I charge the Marshal, Duc de Biron,with being a traitor to you and to France, I charge him withconspiring----'

  'You liar!'

  It was Biron's voice, furious and cracked with rage, that rang throughthe room; but Henry stopped him with a word, and then I went onrepeating exactly what is known, and what I have described before.When it was over the King turned to the Marshal, who burst out in apassion of upbraiding, calling God and his own services to witnessthat his hands were clean, 'and is the word of this man to bebelieved?' he concluded, 'this man who was openly in arms against hisKing, who is known as a brawler in the streets, who is even now tryingto win the hand of a royal ward with not a penny piece to line hisdoublet pockets, who is excluded from the King's Peace--is his oath tobe taken before the word of a peer of France? Sire, my father died byyour side--and I--I will say no more. Believe him if you will. Here ismy sword! It has served you well,' and unbuckling his sword theMarshal flung himself on his knees before the King and presented himwith the hilt of his blade.

  Astonished and silenced by this audacious outburst, I could saynothing, but saw Sully and de Belin exchange a strange smile. TheKing, however, was much moved. Putting his hands on Biron's shoulders,he lifted him to his feet. 'Biron, my old friend,' he said, 'the oathsof this man and of a hundred such as he are but as a feather weightagainst your simple word. Messieurs, it is because I wished theMarshal to know that I would hear nothing behind a man's back that Iwould not repeat to his own face that I have allowed M. d'Auriac afree rein to his tongue. In fine, I believe no word of this incredibletale. M. d'Auriac,' and he turned to me, 'I give you twenty-four hoursto quit France, and never cross my path again.' And here the recklessBiron interposed hotly, 'But I must have satisfaction, sire.'

  'Is it not satisfaction enough to know that the King believes yourword?' said Sully.

  'That may do for the house of Bethune, but not for Biron.'

  The taunt told. It was the one tender point with the great minister.'The house of Bethune,' he began.

  'Was old with the Ark, duc--we all know that,' said He
nry; 'but trulyI know not what satisfaction the Marshal wants.'

  'If not for me, sire, for my friends. There is M. de Gomeron who hasbeen much wronged too.'

  'I see, you are coming to the old point again. I tell you, Biron,plainly, and once for all, I will not have it--my word is given tod'Ayen. And now let us go.'

  When the King had warned me out of France, I had made a half-movementto bow and retire and then glanced round to Belin for a hint as towhat I should do. I could not see him, and not knowing whether toleave the cabinet or not, I remained standing irresolutely where Iwas, and thus was a witness to the little passage described above. AsHenry refused Biron's request he, however, at the same time linked hisarm in that of the Marshal, and stepped towards the door of thecabinet. Sully followed immediately behind, and I brought up the rear.

  In this manner we entered the Galerie d'Apollon, and as we passed inthe King looked round and saw me. He stared hard for a moment, andthen said in loud tones, 'Twenty-four hours is a short time to reachthe frontier, M. d'Auriac,' and then he turned his back on me.

  Everyone heard the words, and I caught de Gie's mocking voice as hespoke to Mademoiselle d'Entragues, 'His cloak was short enough to seethe King in, I observe,' and then there was a feminine titter.

  With my heart boiling with rage I made for the stairway. I did notdare to look for Madame. There was enough despair on my face to enableher to read it like a book were she to see me, and I had no doubt shehad. I felt I had miserably failed. There was one chance, however, andthat was to urge her to instant flight, and I determined to ridestraight to the Rue Varenne and there await either Madame's or Palin'sreturn and induce them to adopt this course.

  At this moment someone came in my way, and, stepping aside to let himpass, I caught sight of Madame with both de Belin and the Huguenot ather side. She was not three feet from me, and held out her handsaying, 'Courage; I know all.' I held her small fingers for a moment,and then the ribbon by which her fan was slung to her wrist somehowslipped and the fan fell to the ground. I picked it up, and, onhanding it to her, caught a whisper, 'Coiffier, to-night,' and thenwith a bow I went on. Ten steps more brought me to the head of thestairway, and Coiffier was standing there. 'Would you have yourfortune told, monsieur?' he asked.

  'Will to-night suit you?' I answered, taking his humour.

  'To-night will be too late, monsieur le chevalier. Look in that as youride home and you will see--and now go.'

  With a turn of his wrist he produced a small red ball of polished woodand placed it in my hands, and then moved backwards amongst the crowd.

  It did not take me five minutes more to find Couronne, but as I turnedher head on reaching the gates of the town towards the river face, Iheard de Belin's quiet voice behind:

  'Not that way, d'Auriac; you come with me.'