The next morning the vicomte went to the hospital to inquire into the
state of the Comte d'Hérouville's health. He found that gentleman
walking back and forth in the ward. There was little of the invalid
about him save for the pallor on his cheeks, which provided proof that
his blood was not yet of its accustomed thickness. At the sight of the
vicomte he neither frowned nor smiled; the expression on his face
remained unchanged, but he ceased his pacing. The two men contemplated
each other, and the tableau lasted for a minute.
"Well, Monsieur?" said D'Hérouville, calmly.
The vicomte was genuinely surprised at the strides toward completeness
which D'Hérouville had made. An ordinary man would still have been
either in bed or in a chair. But none of this surprise appeared on the
Vicomte's face. He had come with a purpose, and he went at it directly.
"Count," he replied, "you and I have been playing hide and seek in the
woods, needlessly and purposelessly."
"I scarce comprehend your words or your presence."
"I will explain at once. Madame de Brissac has made sorry fools of us
all. She is here in Quebec."
"What?" The pain caused by the sudden intake of breath stooped
D'Hérouville's shoulders.
"I have the honor, then, of bringing you the news? Yes," easily,
"Madame de Brissac is in Quebec. Why, is as yet unknown to me."
"What is your purpose in bringing me this lie?" asked D'Hérouville,
recovering. "I have been surrounded by lies ever since I stepped foot
in Rochelle. I shall kill Monsieur de Saumaise a week hence."
"And you do not wish satisfaction from me?" slyly.
A fury leaped into D'Hérouville's eyes, but suddenly died away. "I am
living only with that end in view. It was very clever of you to make
them think you were taking up the Chevalier's cause. You hoodwinked
them nicely."
The vicomte played with the ends of his mustache, as was his habit.
"You say Madame de Brissac is in Quebec ?"
"Yes. And presently your own eyes shall prove the truth of my
statement."
D'Hérouville glanced at his sword, which hung upon the wall. "In
Quebec," he mused. "A lie in this case would be objectless."
"As you see. And would you believe it, there has been a love intrigue
between her and the Chevalier! There's a woman, now! How cleverly she
juggled with us all!"
"The Chevalier?"
"Yes. How you love that man! Droll, is it not? She has been
masquerading, and to this day he hasn't the slightest idea who she is."
"Come, now, Vicomte," with assumed good nature; "your purpose; out with
it."
"I am not a man to waste time, certainly."
"You will give me satisfaction, then?"