At the door he encountered the toothless smile of the old valet, who took the candle from the viscount's hands, ceremoniously escorted Canolles to his door, and hastened back to his master, who was waiting at the top of the stairs.
"What is he doing?" the viscount asked in an undertone.
"I think he has made up his mind to take supper alone," replied Pompée.
"Then he won't come up again?"
"I hope not, at least."
"Order the horses, Pompée; it will be so much time gained. But what is that noise?"
"I should say it was Monsieur Richon's voice."
"And Monsieur de Canolles?"
"They seem to be quarrelling."
"On the contrary, they are greeting each other. Listen!"