It wanted but half an hour of ten o’clock when I returned to the outer room. I was apparently the last one to whom the duchess had instructions to give, for she soon followed me, accompanied by her maid. The room was still crowded, and no one showed any disposition to leave. The knowledge that the time for action was not far distant charged the air with excitement, and men looked at men with set lips and shining eyes. There was no mistaking the determination to strike the regency a blow from which it could not recover, and for the first time I began to be really confident of success.
“Where is St. Aulaire?” I heard Mlle. de Launay inquire.
“I did not invite him this evening,” answered the duchess. “He knows nothing of our plans.”
“’Tis not like him to await an invitation, however,” observed the girl. “Brigaut is also still missing, is he not?”
“He has doubtless been detained. He has much to do.”
She turned to the courtiers who were crowding around her, when there came a little tumult at the door, and I saw a thin, old man pushing his way through the crowd. At a glance I recognized St. Aulaire.
“Ah, madame,” he cried, as he neared the duchess, “the most astonishing things have been happening in Paris this evening. Three or four hours ago, Hérault and his men arrested a fellow called Abbé Bri—Bri—I forget the name. Does any one here happen to know the name of a certain adventurer which begins with Bri?” he continued, appealing to the group about the duchess.
A silence as of death had fallen upon the room. Nearly every man within sound of St. Aulaire’s voice knew that the Abbé Brigaut was interested in the conspiracy, and was, indeed, one of the most trusted of Madame du Maine’s agents in Paris, but not one of them uttered a word. St. Aulaire found himself looking into faces of stone.
“But of course you do not,” he rattled on, after a moment. “No one here would know him. Nevertheless, it is a most amusing story. It seems that this abbé has a secretary, and this secretary, of course, has a mistress. Last night he had an appointment with his mistress, which, it appears, he did not keep,—in which he was greatly to blame. This morning he called to make his excuses, and told the girl that his master had kept him awake all night preparing a lot of papers which were to be sent to Spain.”
At that word a shiver ran through the listeners, and the duchess became livid. By a supreme effort she smiled.