The gipsy, thus addressed, turned to Benoit, and a rapid conversation in the dialect of his tribe ensued between them. When it was over, Benoit took Louise aside, and saying, ‘I will find a safer place for you than this—fear nothing, I will return soon,’ left the room, in company with the Bohemian.
‘Who is the other lady?’ asked Benoit as they quitted the apartment.
‘I don’t know, nor do I much care,’ replied the man. ‘She was brought here by the Marquis de Brinvilliers, who was sent for to the Tuileries almost the instant he arrived.’
‘Is she here against her will, then?’
‘Mass! I don’t know what to make of it. It seems that the Marquis was nearly being set upon, in mistake, by his friend, Captain de Sainte-Croix, for carrying her off.’
A hurried exclamation escaped Benoit’s lips.
‘Whereabouts?’ he asked eagerly.
‘Between the Captain’s lodgings and the Hotel d’Aubray, you may be sure,’ was the reply.
Benoit heard no more; but hurriedly bidding his acquaintance farewell, left the house. How he succeeded in his enterprise has been already explained.
As the door of the room closed the manner of Marotte Dupré entirely changed. Hastily and breathlessly drawing Louise to the window, she whispered—