“This was not a man, it was a devil,” declared Bernin. “He locked us in his bedroom like so many pigs, having first decoyed us there to show us how to play a wonderful game. He broke open the window and dropped forty feet into the Seine. We had the door down in a moment, but he was gone.”
“And where did he go?” cried Hérault. “Tell me that, Bernin?”
“Alas, I do not know, monsieur.”
“I think I can relieve your anxiety on that score, M. Hérault,” I said, descending to a lower step. “I wish you a very good-evening, monsieur,” and I bowed politely.
He stared at me with open mouth, as though unable to believe his eyes. Some one brought a torch, which cast a red glow over the hallway and threw into relief the faces of the soldiers looking up at us. But he was a man accustomed to astonishments, and he soon pulled himself together.
“You will pardon my surprise, M. de Brancas,” he said, at last. “You seem to be possessed of an amazing agility. May I ask how you entered here?”
“By the door,” I answered, still smiling, and rejoicing that it was my turn, “an instant before your men appeared at the end of the street, monsieur.”
He gazed at me for a moment longer as I smiled down into his eyes.
“Come, M. de Brancas,” he said, at last, mounting to the step where I stood, “give me your hand. By my soul, you are a brave man and I admire you. You must some day show me this game with which you beguiled my soldiers.”
“With pleasure,” I laughed. “It is an excellent game.”