CHAPTER XXXVIII.
FATHER AND SON.
THE knight of Redcastle knew he should find his father at their Paris Lodgings. Since his rupture with Richelieu, he found life insupportable at Versailles and he tried to conquer torpor by agitation, and by change of residence.
With frightful spells of swearing, he was pacing the little garden when he saw his son appear. In his expectation he snapped at any branch. He greeted him with a mixture of spite and curiosity; but when he saw his moody face, paleness, rigid lines of feature, and set of the mouth, it froze the flow of questions he was about to let go.
“You? by what hazard?”
“I am bringing bad news,” returned the captain gravely.
The baron staggered.
“Are we quite alone?” asked the younger man.
“Yes.”
“But I think we had better go in, as certain things should not be spoken under the light of heaven.”
Affecting unconcern and even to smile, the baron followed his son into the low sitting room where Philip carefully closed the doors.