"My lord! remember your promise," said Rutler, who did not evince the slightest surprise when the face of the adventurer was seen.
"How! he does not perceive his mistake," thought the astonished chevalier.
"Meanwhile, my lord," replied the colonel, assisting Croustillac to seat himself as comfortably as he could near the fountain, "meanwhile, my lord, pardon the rudeness of my attack, but I was forced to this."
Croustillac made no reply. Divided between fear and curiosity, he was burning to know to whom these words were addressed: 'My lord duke.' Naturally of an adventurous turn, he could not but be the gainer, doubtless by being taken for another, above all, for the husband of Blue Beard; and the chevalier resolved to play, as far as he could, the rôle which he had involuntarily assumed, hoping, possibly, to thus learn the secret of the dwellers of Devil's Cliff. He answered, however, "Are you sure, sir, that it is I whom you are seeking?"
"Your grace need not attempt to deceive me," said Rutler. "It is true that I have not had the honor of seeing you before to-day, my lord; but I heard your conversation with madame the duchess. Who but you, my lord, would be walking with her at this hour? Who but you would be dressed in this coat with the red sleeve, as shown by James Syllon, who painted you in this costume?"
"And I thought this costume so fantastic," reflected Croustillac.
"It is not for me to express surprise at finding you wearing these garments which must often recall memories so cruel," continued Rutler, with a gloomy air.
"Cruel memories!" repeated Croustillac.
"My lord," said the colonel, "two years before the fatal day of Bridgewater, dressed in this coat, did you not render homage to your royal father, when hunting at Lancaster?"
"To my royal father? a falcon?" said the chevalier, astounded.