"I will seek for ink and paper."
"It is needless, my soldier will get my tablets."
He instructed the soldier to take them from his pocket, opened them by a spring, wrote some lines in pencil, and shut them again. It was impossible for any one who did not know the secret to open them without breaking them.
"Monsieur," said Ernanton, "in three days these tablets shall be delivered."
"Into her own hands?"
"Yes, monsieur."
The duke, exhausted by talking, and by the effort of writing the letter, sank back on his straw.
"Monsieur," said the soldier, in a tone little in harmony with his dress, "you bound me very tight, it is true, but I shall regard my chains as bonds of friendship, and will prove it to you some day."
And he held out a hand whose whiteness Ernanton had already remarked.
"So be it," said he, smiling; "it seems I have gained two friends."