Although Croustillac did not count much on the promise of his friends, knowing all the difficulties which they would have to brave and to conquer before they could succor him, he wished in any case not to sacrifice this chance of safety, however uncertain it should be.
Thus, as the guide had informed them, they arrived at Fort Royal at the end of an hour's march.
The residence of the governor was situated at the extremity of the city, on the edge of the savannahs; it was easy to reach it without encountering any one.
Chemerant sent one of the guards in all haste to warn the governor of the arrival of his two guests.
The baron had replaced his long peruke, and resumed his heavy, tight-fitting coat, in order to receive De Chemerant and the supposed duke. He regarded the latter with eager curiosity, and was extremely puzzled by the black velvet coat with the red sleeve. But, remembering that De Chemerant had spoken to him of a state secret in which the inhabitants of Devil's Cliff found themselves mixed up, he did not dare to meet Croustillac without profound deference.
The governor, profiting by a moment during which the adventurer cast a melancholy glance at the window, striving to see whether it would serve his purpose, said in a low tone to De Chemerant, "I expected to see a lady, sir. This litter that you brought with you——"
"Well, baron, you unfortunately counted without your hostess."
"You must have been much heated by this morning sun," added the baron with a careless air, although he was piqued by De Chemerant's answer.
"Very much heated, sir, and your guest also. You should offer him some refreshment."
"I have thought of that, sir," replied the baron, "and have ordered three covers laid."