"You, Monsieur?" said the sailor. "The only cabin-room left is next to
mine, and expensive."
"I will pay you in advance. I must go to Quebec. I can not wait."
"Very well, Monsieur."
The vicomte went to the door of the private assembly and knocked
boldly. Victor answered the summons.
"D'Halluys?" cried Victor, stepping back.
"Yes, Monsieur. Pardon the intrusion, but I have something to say to
Monsieur le Chevalier."
He bared his head, looked serenely into Victor's doubting eyes, and
turned to the Chevalier, whose face was without any sign of welcome or
displeasure. "Monsieur," the vicomte began, "it is very
embarrassing--Patience, Monsieur de Saumaise!" for Victor had laid his
hand upon his sword; "my errand is purely pacific. It is very
embarrassing, then, to approach a man so deeply in trouble as yourself.
I know not what madness seized you to-night. I am not here to offer
you sympathy; sympathy is cheap consolation. I am here to say that no
man shall in my presence speak lightly of your misfortune. Let me be
frank with you. I have often envied your success in Paris; and there
were times when this envy was not unmixed with hate. But a catastrophe
like that to-night wipes out such petty things as envy and hate."
"Take care, Monsieur," said Victor haughtily. He believed that he
caught an undercurrent of raillery.
"Why, Monsieur, what have I said?" looking from one to the other.
"Proceed, Vicomte," said the Chevalier, motioning Victor to be quiet.
He was curious to learn what the vicomte had to say.
"To continue, then: you are a man of extraordinary courage, and I have
always admired you even while I envied you. To-night I lost to you
some fifty pistoles. Give me the happiness of crossing out this
trifling debt," and the vicomte counted out fifty golden pistoles which
he laid on the table. There was no particle of offense in his actions.
"To prove to you my entire good will, I will place my life into your
keeping, Monsieur le Chevalier. Doubtless Saumaise has told you that
at present Paris is uninhabitable both to himself and to me. The
shadows of the Bastille and the block cast their gloom upon us. We
have conspired against the head of the state, which is Mazarin. There
is a certain paper, which, if seen by the cardinal, will cause the
signing of our death warrants. Monsieur de Saumaise, have you any idea
who stole your cloak?"
"It was not my cloak, Monsieur," said Victor, with a frown; "it was
loaned to me by Monsieur le Chevalier."
"Yours?" cried the vicomte, turning to the Chevalier.
"Yes." The Chevalier thoughtfully fingered the golden coin. One
slipped through his fingers and went jangling along the stone of the
floor.
"I was wondering where I had seen it before. Hang me, but this is all
pretty well muddled up. There was a traitor somewhere, or a coward.
What think you, Saumaise; does not this look like Gaston of Orléans?"