“Then,” said Sir John, “was it to see me that you left the army and came to Paris?”
“Solely for that honor, sir; and I trust that you will guess my motives, and spare me the necessity of explaining them.”
“From this moment I am at your service, sir,” replied Sir John.
“At what hour to-morrow can two of my friends wait upon you?”
“From seven in the morning until midnight; unless you prefer that it should be now.”
“No, my lord; I have but just arrived, and I must have time to find my friends and give them my instructions. If it will not inconvenience you, they will probably call upon you to-morrow between ten and eleven. I shall be very much obliged to you if the affair we have to settle could be arranged for the same day.”
“I believe that will be possible, sir; as I understand it to be your wish, the delay will not be from my side.”
“That is all I wished to know, my lord; pray do not let me detain you longer.”
Roland bowed, and Sir John returned the salutation. Then the young man left the theatre and Sir John returned to his seat in the balcony. The words had been exchanged in such perfectly well modulated voices, and with such an impassible expression of countenance on both sides, that no one would have supposed that a quarrel had arisen between the two men who had just greeted each other so courteously.
It happened to be the reception day of the minister of war. Roland returned to his hotel, removed the traces of his journey, jumped into a carriage, and a little before ten he was announced in the salon of the citizen Carnot.