His quarrel with the Vicar had evaporated in the mists of speculation; Fontelles had no mind to lose his complaint against me in any such manner, but he was a man of ceremony and must needs begin again with me much as he had with the Vicar. Thus obtaining my opportunity, I cut across his preface, saying brusquely:
"Well, I am glad that it is the King's employment and not M. de Perrencourt's."
He flushed red.
"We know what we know, sir," said he. "If you have anything to say against M. de Perrencourt, consider me as his friend. Did you cry out to me as I rode last night?"
"Why, yes, and I was a fool there. As for M. de Perrencourt——"
"If you speak of him, speak with respect, sir. You know of whom you speak."
"Very well. Yet I have held a pistol to his head," said I, not, I confess, without natural pride.
Fontelles started, then laughed scornfully.
"When he and Mistress Quinton and I were in a boat together," I pursued. "The quarrel then was which of us should escort the lady, he or I, and whether to Calais or to England. And although I should have been her husband had we gone to Calais, yet I brought her here."
"You're pleased to talk in riddles."