“He began writing without noticing that the messenger was looking over his shoulder.”
May. In your turn assist me. By noon on the day after to-morrow, I must have two hundred and sixty thousand francs. I have sufficient confidence in your honour to apply to you.
“Maurice d’Escorval.”
For a moment Martial stood bewildered, then springing to a table he began writing, without noticing that the messenger was looking over his shoulder: “Monsieur—Not the day after to-morrow, but this evening, what you ask will be at your service. My fortune and my life are at your disposal. It is but a slight return for the generosity shown by you in withdrawing, when, under the rags of May, you recognized your former enemy, but now your devoted friend.
“Martial de Sairmeuse.”
The duke folded this letter with a feverish hand, and giving it to the messenger with a louis, he said: “Here is the answer, make haste!”
But the messenger did not stir. He slipped the letter into his pocket, and then hastily cast his red beard and wig on the floor.