When he had shut the door, all the appearances of age vanished, except the bald head, and Remy mounted the staircase with an agility more like a young man of twenty-five, than the old man he had appeared to be a few minutes before.
"Madame! madame!" cried he, in an agitated voice.
"Well, what is it, Remy; is not the duke gone?"
"Yes, madame, but there is a worse demon here; a demon on whom, during six years, I have daily called down Heaven's vengeance, as you have on his master."
"Aurilly?"
"Yes, Aurilly; the wretch is below, forgotten by his infernal accomplice."
"Forgotten, do you say, Remy? Oh! you are wrong; you, who know the duke, know that he never leaves to chance any evil deed, if he can do it himself. No, no, Remy; Aurilly is not forgotten, but left here for some bad design, believe me!"
"Oh! about him, madame, I can believe anything."
"Does he know me?"
"I do not think so."