“Ah! there was a fatality about it! Just as we were perfecting our arrangements to capture the Duc de Sairmeuse, the duke surprised us. We fled, but the cursed noble pursued us, overtook Carini, seized him by the collar, and dragged him to the citadel.”
Lacheneur was overwhelmed; the abbe’s gloomy prophecy again resounded in his ears.
“So I warned my friends, and hastened to warn you,” continued the officer. “The affair is an utter failure!”
He was only too correct; and Lacheneur knew it even better than he did. But, blinded by hatred and anger, he would not acknowledge that the disaster was irreparable.
“Let Mademoiselle de Counornieu pass without hinderance.”
He affected a calmness which he did not in the least feel.
“You are easily discouraged, gentlemen,” he said, bitterly. “There is, at least, one more chance.”
“The devil! Then you have resources of which we are ignorant?”
“Perhaps—that depends. You have just passed the Croix d’Arcy; did you tell any of those people what you have just told me?”
“Not a word.”