I opened my eyes to find a tall fellow bending over me and dashing water into my face. Another stood near by holding a torch. A flare of light came from the doorway, and I heard voices and the clank of arms without.
“He’s coming round,” said the fellow with the torch, seeing my eyes open. “He must have struck his head when we pitched him in here. Lucky for us his skull is thick. Again, Blatot.”
And the other deluged me again with water.
I sat upright, sputtering, dazed, suffocated.
“What is it?” I asked, so soon as I could get my breath. “Do you wish to choke me?”
“No, we’ll leave that to the hangman,” answered Blatot grimly. “Just now we are to take you before M. le Comte. I advise you to go quietly.”
“I will go gladly,” I said, for I had feared another answer. Besides, now that I held the key to the puzzle, I might find a way out. “Lead the way.”
They fell into place about me and we toiled up the steps to the hall above. As we reached the stair-head I saw it was full day. Down the hall we turned, into the room where I had first met d’Aurilly, and across it to the chamber beyond.
It was crowded with M. le Comte’s retainers, and they must have got some wind of my adventure, for a hum of anger greeted my entrance. M. le Comte himself was seated in a great fauteuil, his face still bandaged, but seemingly giving him less pain than it had the night before. D’Aurilly stood beside him, and he smiled maliciously as he noted my torn and disordered clothing, drenched with water, and the bruises on my head and face. Plainly he had not forgot that blow on the mouth—at which I did not greatly wonder, for neither should I have forgot it.
“M. de Marsan,” said M. le Comte, when I stood before him, “I have had you brought here in place of ordering you straight to the gallows that you may answer certain questions I have to ask of you. ’Twill be wise on your part to answer them fully and truthfully.”