“But one pocket can hold the reward and would be fuller than two, Master Dauban,” replied Antoine with a laugh, and they passed on.
“There is one in the Castle who knows the secret, eh, Antoine?” muttered Lucette when they had passed out of earshot. “If I do not read that I am no woman,” and her eyes had a light that boded no good to Antoine de Cavannes.
“Something of the huckster in this admirer of yours, mademoiselle,” laughed Pascal. “He would turn this admiration of his for you to a profit. You must act warily, for if he suspects the object of your visit to Malincourt he may get the tidings to the Duke.”
“You may trust me, monsieur,” said Lucette confidently.
“This Dauban, too. You heard how he pricked his ears at what was said. Mark me, he will watch your Antoine, or I am no reader of a man’s voice. And he is a born spy.”
“Be at hand at the cedar gate at the hour you named, and maybe I will bring them both, monsieur,” and with that she peeped out cautiously and then sped away.
Pascal waited a few seconds and then sauntered back in the direction of the gate. He had learned enough and was anxious to get away. As he crossed the courtyard luck favoured him: Captain Bassot with another officer came out of his quarters.
“I have to report myself, captain,” said Pascal, with a salute.
“What madcap folly now?” said the captain sternly, repressing astonishment at seeing Pascal.
“Nothing serious this time, captain.”