“He has confessed to you?”
“No, I swear. But the sacristan of Le Marais is an exuberant toss-pot, and apt to overflow in his cups. My information is from him.”
“What information?”
“Why, that miss and my friend have very much the air of being lovers secretly pledged to one another.”
“It is a fact. But how does he know it?”
“His chapel is their pious rendezvous, sweet souls. There they met first, and there they meet still.”
“It is well they take their loves to church—a good sign. He will want to make an honest woman of her.”
Cartouche grew suddenly and fastidiously articulate.
“I will beg you to bear in mind, Dr Bonito,” he said, “that M. Saint-Péray has made his honour my own.”
“That is admirable indeed,” answered the physician. “But has he introduced you to the lady?”