‘I have no more to add, Monsieur,’ said Gerald haughtily. ‘My commission is fulfilled already.’
‘Take some wine; you are heated with your long ride,’ said the Count, filling out a large goblet, while he motioned to Gerald to be seated.
‘Nay, sir; it is not of me there is time to think now. Pray, let me have your answer to my message, for Monsieur told me, if I either failed to find you, or from any casualty you were unable to repair to St. Cloud, that I should come back with all speed to apprise him, my not returning being the sign that all went well.’
‘All went well,’ muttered Mirabeau to himself. ‘How could it go worse?’
Gerald sat gazing in wonderment at the massive, stern features before him, calling up all that he could remember of their first meeting, and scarcely able, even yet to persuade himself that he had been the companion of that great Count de Mirabeau whose fame filled all France.
‘In the event of my compliance, you were then to accompany me to St. Cloud?’ said the Count, in a tone of inquiry.
‘Yes, sir; so I understood my orders.’
‘There is mention in history of a certain Duc de Guise——’
He stopped short, and walked to and fro for some time in silence; then, turning abruptly around, he asked: ‘How came it that you stood so high in Monsieur’s confidence that he selected you for this mission?’
‘By mere accident,’ said Gerald, and he recounted how the incident had occurred.