“Yes, but I know also that Monsieur le Comte de la Fere arranged that you were to remain with me and that Olivain should return to Paris. I shall follow the count’s directions.”
“Not under present circumstances, monsieur.”
“Perhaps you mean to disobey me?”
“Yes, monsieur, I must.”
“You persist, then?”
“Yes, I am going; may you be happy, monsieur,” and Grimaud saluted and turned toward the door to go out.
Raoul, angry and at the same time uneasy, ran after him and seized him by the arm. “Grimaud!” he cried; “remain; I wish it.”
“Then,” replied Grimaud, “you wish me to allow monsieur le comte to be killed.” He saluted and made a movement to depart.
“Grimaud, my friend,” said the viscount, “will you leave me thus, in such anxiety? Speak, speak, in Heaven’s name!” And Raoul fell back trembling upon his chair.
“I can tell you but one thing, sir, for the secret you wish to know is not my own. You met a monk, did you not?”