“Scars? And of what kind, pray?”
“Now you are asking me too much. I do not know.”
On receiving this reply, Tantaine rose hastily from his chair, and thus concealed his agitation from his companion.
“I have a hundred apologies to make for taking up so much of your valuable time. My master has got it into his head that you were after the same game as ourselves. He was mistaken, and now we leave the field clear to you.”
Before Perpignan could make any reply, the old man had passed through the doorway. On the threshold he paused, and said,—
“Were I in your place, I would stick to my first plan. You will never find the boy, but you will get several thousand francs out of the Duke, which I am sure will come in handy.”
“There are scars now, then,” muttered Tantaine, as he moved away from the house, “and that Master Catenac never said a word about them!”