He closed the window, and, throwing himself upon the bed, was soon in a sound sleep; being accustomed to danger, it never kept him awake.
At the breakfast-table, his calm, smiling face bore no traces of a wakeful, anxious night.
He was in a gayer, more talkative mood than usual, and said he would like to ride over the country, and visit the neighboring towns. Before leaving the table, he had planned several excursions which were to take place during the week.
He hoped to keep Gaston so amused and occupied, that he would forget all about going to Paris in search of Valentine.
He thought that with time, and skilfully put objections, he could dissuade his brother from seeking out his former love. He relied upon being able to convince him that this absolutely unnecessary interview would be painful to both, embarrassing to him, and dangerous to her.
As to the jewels, if Gaston persisted in claiming them, Louis could safely offer to go and get them for him, as he had only to redeem them from the pawnbroker.
But his hopes and plans were soon scattered to the winds.
“You know,” said Gaston, “I have written.”
Louis knew well enough to what he alluded, but pretended to be very much surprised, and said:
“Written? To whom? Where? For what?”