Probably the worst was coming now. But, at all events, it was something that she should let him see how much she knew.
"Yes," went on Mme. de Chaulnes, "he gave us a very agreeable and lifelike picture of his doings in Cavendish Square, and of his many French friends, so that it was not hard to recognise you, Monsieur . . . Augustin!"
The name was merely breathed. La Vireville was only just able to check an exclamation. Anne had indeed, poor innocent, betrayed him! But how did he know his nom de guerre? Then he remembered that it had been used in the child's presence when he sat on his lap that night in Mr. Elphinstone's dining-room. . . . Well, it was his own doing, for it was he who had retained him there. Perhaps it did not very much matter after all; it was quite conceivable that these old plotters, with the sources of information which had in the past been only too open to them, had found out his identity by other means. But, remembering that meeting, a very disquieting fear suddenly came over him. How much of another matter had Anne heard and understood?
Mme. de Chaulnes looked at his face and openly laughed.
"You are wondering. M. le Chevalier . . . M. Augustin—which do you prefer?—how much the child remembered of the conversation you held about the proposed Government expedition? But, you see, we know all about that—from other sources. Only the place—the suggested place of landing. . . . Unfortunately, Anne was not able at first to recall the name."
"Why do you say 'at first'?" broke in La Vireville.
"Because it is the truth. By now he may have remembered."
"Where is he?" demanded the Chouan, who was holding himself in with difficulty.
Mme. de Chaulnes shrugged her shoulders. "I have told you. Somewhere between here and Rochester."
"Madame, you are lying!" said La Vireville. "Between here and Paris would be nearer the mark. You have sent him over to France because you think he knows a thing which, if he did know it, is not of the slightest importance."