"That Borromée did not make such good use of his sword as the man who killed him."—"True."
"And now that is all I had to say to you. Good-night, Jacques; we shall meet again soon, and if you like—"
"What, Monsieur Briquet?"
"Why, I will give you lessons in fencing for the future."
"Oh! I shall be most thankful."
"And now off with you, my boy, for they are waiting for you impatiently at the priory."
"True, true. Thank you, Monsieur Briquet, for having reminded me of it."
And the little monk disappeared, running as fast as he could.
Chicot had a reason for dismissing his companion. He had extracted from him all he wished to know, and, on the other hand, there still remained something further for him to learn. He returned, therefore, as fast as he could to his own house. The litter, the bearers, and the horse were still at the door of the "Brave Chevalier."
He regained his gutter without making a noise.