"That is well, abbe, for I know who will undertake to empty it," said D'Harmental.
"Then all is agreed," said the duchess. "In an hour, in the Champs-Elysées."
Then the duchess—having readjusted her mantle so as to hide her face—took Valef's arm, and went out. Malezieux followed at a little distance, taking care not to lose sight of her. Brigaud and Pompadour went out together, and D'Harmental went directly to the Rue Saint Honore.
Whether it were chance, or calculation on the part of the duchess, who appreciated D'Harmental, and understood how fully she might rely upon him, the chevalier found himself more than ever put forward in the conspiracy: but his honor was engaged; and although he foresaw the terrible consequences of the step which he was about to take, he went boldly forward, resolved to sacrifice everything, even his life and his love, to the fulfillment of his promise.
He presented himself at La Fillon's with the same tranquillity as before, although many things were altered in his life since then, and having been, as before, received by the mistress of the house in person he inquired if Captain Roquefinette were visible.
Without doubt La Fillon had expected a much less moral demand; for on recognizing D'Harmental, she could not repress a movement of surprise. However, she asked if he were not the same person, who—two months before—had come there to inquire for the captain. D'Harmental replied in the affirmative. As soon as she was informed on this point, she called a servant, and ordered her to conduct the chevalier to No. 72. The girl obeyed, taking a candle, and going before D'Harmental, who followed her. This time, no songs guided him in his ascent; all was silent in the house; and as the chevalier himself was occupied with grave thoughts, he mounted the six flights, and knocked at once at the door.
"Enter," said Roquefinette.
The chevalier slipped a louis into the servant's hand, opened the door, and went in.
The same change was observable in the interior as in the exterior. Roquefinette was no longer, as on the first occasion, sitting among the debris of a feast, surrounded by slaves, smoking his long pipe. He was alone, in a little dark attic, lighted by a single candle, which, nearly burned out, gave more smoke than flame, and whose flickering light gave a strange expression to the harsh face of the brave captain, who was standing leaning against the chimney-piece.
"Ah!" said Roquefinette in a slightly ironical tone, "it is you, chevalier; I expected you."