“They looked at me in a curious manner, and one of them—he was quite a young man, and, now I saw him closer, a gentleman—said: ‘It is not an uncommon name, sir. Of what profession was this friend of yours?’
“I hesitated for a moment, and then, remembering how La Rouërie had described himself to me, I said: ‘A merchant of Bordeaux.’”
“Tableau!” exclaimed Louis.
“Not at all. On the contrary, we fenced for fully five minutes, I afraid alike of compromising M. de la Rouërie and myself. For all I knew they might be police spies, and I suppose that they had the same conjecture about me. Well, in the end we satisfied each other most fully. They were confidential agents of the Marquis reconnoitring in Nantes—a pretty perilous business—and were just about to return to the interior. As they saluted me and left the ordinary I had an overmastering desire to send a message to La Rouërie. I cursed myself for having let slip the opportunity, paid my score and hurried after them. I found them standing at a corner, talking and looking back, and as I came up it was evident to me that I was the person they were waiting for.
“‘Messieurs,’ said I, ‘would it be imposing too much on your kindness if I asked you to take a message from me to Monsieur Milet?’
“To this they answered that if I would go with them to their lodgings they would do better, if I liked. I was perfectly convinced of their good faith, and (I confess it was foolish of me) it occurred to me that they possibly meant that La Rouërie himself was in hiding there, and I wanted very much to see him again, so I accompanied them.”
“Do you know,” commented the Vicomte, “that for a rather particularly prudent person you have the most extraordinary lapses from sagacity?”
A smile glimmered round Gilbert’s mouth. “I went in with them,” he pursued. “There was, of course, no La Rouërie there—but directly the door was shut the younger man took my hand and said: ‘I remember now the Marquis speaking to me of a Vendean noble whom he met recently near Laval. Are you not he?’ I said that I was. ‘Then,’ said he, ‘if I know Armand de la Rouërie, he would give a thousand pounds to meet you again.’ I believe I replied that I would do the same. Well, to cut a long story short, I arranged to go with them (as it would be a matter of a few days only) to see La Rouërie, who was supposed to be still at Launay-Villiers.”
“And he was not?” asked the priest.
“No. Nor was he at Mauron, whither we went afterwards. Finally, after a fortnight’s travelling and adventures, with which I will not bore you, we ran him to earth right in North Brittany, near Lamballe.”