I began speaking French, but when I paused for his verdict, he shrugged his shoulders, saying:—
"Ah, oui, oui! It may be better than my English." But notwithstanding his scant praise, we spoke the French language thereafter.
The count bowed himself out and left me to decipher, if I could, the problem of M. l'Abbé du Boise. Presently I discovered the cue. The Abbé was George Hamilton, and for the moment my heart almost stopped beating. If he should come to England on the French king's business, which could be nothing more nor less than the Dunkirk affair, and should be discovered, there would be a public entertainment on Tyburn Hill, with George as the central figure.
When I found a spare hour, I hastened to see Lilly and came upon the good Doctor among the stars, as usual. There was a letter for me from Hamilton. It was short and in cipher:—
"DEAR FRIEND:
"This is to tell you that M. l'Abbé du Boise will soon be in London. He will be the guest of M. Comte de Grammont.
"You do not know him. Please call on him when he arrives. Tell the Duchess of Hearts that he will want to see her. Ask her to be ready to help him. He goes to buy Dunkirk for the French king, and his success will mean good fortune for me.
"Your friend,
"LE BLANC."
After reading the letter, I felt sure that the Abbé du Boise was George Hamilton. I could hardly bring myself to believe that he would be so foolhardy as to visit Whitehall, though I knew the adventure was of a nature likely to appeal to his reckless disregard of consequences. I knew also that, if successful, he would win the reward without which life had little value to him.