“Certainly I have.”
“Where? if I may ask without indiscretion.”
“Near here,” replied De Comminges, smiling; “so near that if the windows which look on the orangery were not stopped up you could see him from where you are.”
“He is wandering about the environs of the castle,” thought D’Artagnan. Then he said aloud:
“You met him, I dare say, in the park—hunting, perhaps?”
“No; nearer, nearer still. Look, behind this wall,” said De Comminges, knocking against the wall.
“Behind this wall? What is there, then, behind this wall? I was brought here by night, so devil take me if I know where I am.”
“Well,” said Comminges, “suppose one thing.”
“I will suppose anything you please.”
“Suppose there were a window in this wall.”