"I'll get me back to Paris as fast as horse can carry me.

When I return woe betide Condillac! And I shall send my emissaries into the district of Montelimar to inquire into these disturbances you tell of.

Woe betide you if they find the country quiet.

You shall pay a heavy price for having dispatched your soldiers thither to the end that they might not be here to further the Queen's business." With that he caught up his rain-sodden hat, flung it on his head, and stalked out of the room, and, so, out of the Palace.
He left Grenoble next morning, and it was a very tame and crestfallen Garnache who quitted the Auberge du Veau qui Tete and rode out of the town to take the road to Paris.

How they would laugh at him at the Luxembourg! Not even an affair of this kind was he fit to carry through; not even as a meddler in women's matters as Tressan had called him--could he achieve success.