"I know all."
"Ah, abbe; your police, then, is as good as ever!"
"You shall judge."
Dubois stretched out his hand, rang the bell, and a messenger appeared.
"Send the lieutenant-general," said Dubois.
"But, abbe, it seems to me that it is you who give orders here now."
"It is for your good, monseigneur.—Let me do it."
"Well, well!" said the regent, "one must be indulgent to new-comers."
Messire Voyer d'Argenson entered—he was as ugly as Dubois, but his ugliness was of a very different kind. He was tall, thick, and heavy; wore an immense wig, had great bushy eyebrows, and was invariably taken for the devil by children who saw him for the first time. But with all this, he was supple, active, skillful, intriguing, and fulfilled his office conscientiously, when he was not turned from his nocturnal duties by other occupations.
"Messire d'Argenson," said Dubois, without even leaving the lieutenant-general time to finish his bow, "monseigneur, who has no secrets from me, has sent for you, that you may tell me in what costume he went out last night, in whose house he passed the evening, and what happened to him on leaving it. I should not need to ask these questions if I had not just arrived from London; you understand, that as I traveled post from Calais, I can know nothing of them."