While the things which we have related were passing in the parlor of the hotel Tigre-Royal, in another apartment of the same hotel, seated near a large fire, was a man shaking the snow from his boots, and untying the strings of a large portfolio. This man was dressed in the hunting livery of the house of Orleans; the coat red and silver, large boots, and a three-cornered hat, trimmed with silver. He had a quick eye, a long pointed nose, a round and open forehead, which was contradicted by thin and compressed lips.
This man murmured to himself some phrases which he interrupted by oaths and exclamations, which seemed less the result of words than thoughts.
"Come, come," said he, "M. de Montaran did not deceive me, and our Bretons are hard at the work; but for what earthly reason can he have come by such short stages? He left at noon on the 11th, and only arrived on the evening of the 21st. This probably hides some new mystery, which will be explained by the fellow recommended by Montaran, and with whom my people were in communication on the journey. Hola!"
And he rang a silver bell. A man, dressed in gray, like those we have seen on the route, appeared.
"Ah! it is you, Tapin?"
"Yes, monseigneur; the affair being important, I thought it better to come myself."
"Have you questioned the men you placed on the road?"
"Yes, monseigneur; but they know nothing but the places at which our conspirators stopped; in fact, that is all they were told to learn."
"I will try to learn from the servant. What sort of man is he?"
"Oh, a mischievous simpleton, half Norman, half Breton; a bad fellow."