I paused a moment at what I had yet to tell.
“Yes, yes!” cried my listener. “Continue; and then?”
“And then, M. le Comte,” I said, “as I was hastening along the Rue Gogard a woman burst from a gate and appealed to me for help. Without pausing to reflect, I followed her. The rest you know.”
He sat for a moment looking at me.
“In faith, Monsieur,” he said at last, “if what you say is true,—and it hath a certain ring of truth about it,—you are not so greatly at fault as I had thought. I reprieve you from the gallows till I have tested your story. M. de Fronsac,” he added, to a young man who stood near by, “I commit M. de Marsan to your care. See that he does not escape.”
Fronsac bowed and took his place at my side.
“See that he is provided with new equipage,” added M. le Comte, with a gleam of humor in his eye as he looked at me; “he hath need of it.” And then he rose from his seat and his voice took a sterner ring. “Messieurs,” he cried, “you have heard this message, and can guess how nearly it touches us. Whether it be true or false, we shall soon determine. Arm yourselves!”
D’Aurilly, leaning on his chair, interrupted him.
“Do you mean, M. le Comte,” he asked disdainfully, “that you intend to go forth on this fool’s errand?”
My master shot him a swift glance, in which I saw suspicion spring to life.