"I certainly did gently withdraw from under the reverend gentleman," replied Riquet, "a bag on which he was sitting, and which he took back again, as you saw, declaring it to be the King's commission for exterminating the Huguenots, which did my soul good to hear. I gave it back with all reverence, as you saw, and had it not in my hands a minute, though I did think--though I did indeed know----"
"Did think? did know, what?" demanded the Abbé.
"That it could not have been in safer hands than mine," added Riquet; and though St Helie urged him vehemently, he could get him to give him no farther explanation. Angry at being foiled--and such probably was the result that Riquet intended to produce--the Abbé lost all caution and reserve. "Come, come, Master Jerome Riquet," he exclaimed in a sharp voice, "come, come; remember that there is such a place as the Bastille. Tell us the truth, sir! tell us the truth! This paper was stolen! You evidently know something about it! Tell us the truth, or means shall be found to make you. Now, answer me! If your baggage were searched at this moment, would not the packet be found therein--or have you dared to destroy it?"
Jerome Riquet now affected to bristle up in turn. His eyes flashed, his large nostrils expanded like a pair of extinguishers, and he replied, "No, Abbé, no; neither the one nor the other. But since I, one of the King's most loyal Catholic subjects, am accused in this way, I will speak out I will say that you two gentlemen should have taken better care of the commission yourselves, and that though not one scrap will be found in my valise, or in the baggage of any other person belonging to my lord, I would not be answerable that more than a scrap was not found amongst the baggage of some that are accusing others."
"How now, sirrah," cried the Abbé de St Helie, "do you dare to say that either Monsieur Pelisson or I----"
"Nothing about either of you two reverend sirs," replied the valet, "nothing about either of you two! But first let my valise be brought in and examined. Monsieur has been pleased to say that there is something there; and I swear by every thing I hold dear, or by any other oath your reverences please, that I have not touched a thing in it since I heard of this business about the cards. Let it be brought in, I say, and examined. May I tell the people without, my Lord Duke, to bring in every thing I have in the world, and lay it down here before you?"
The Duke immediately assented, and while Jerome Riquet, without entirely leaving the room, bade the attendants in the ante-chamber bring in every thing, every thing they could find in his room, St. Helie and Pelisson looked in each others faces with glances of some embarrassment and wonder, while the Count de Morseiul gazed sternly down on the table, firmly believing that Master Jerome Riquet was engaged in playing off some specious trick which he himself could not detect, and was bound not to expose.
The goods and chattels of the valet were brought in, and a various and motley display they made; for whether he had arranged the whole on purpose out of sheer impudence, or had left matters to take their course accidentally, his valise presented a number of objects certainly not his own property, and to most of which his master, if he had remarked them, might have laid claim. The Count was silent, however, and though the manifold collection of silk stockings, ribands, lace, doublets, &c. &c. &c., were drawn forth to the very bottom, yet nothing the least bearing upon the question of the abstraction of the commission was found throughout the whole.
As he shook the last vest, to show that there was nothing in it, a smile of triumph shone upon the countenance of Jerome Riquet, and he demanded, "Now, gentlemen, are you satisfied that I have no share in this business?"
The Abbé de St Helie was hastening to acknowledge that he was satisfied, for he was timid as well as malevolent; and having lost the hold, which he thought he might have had on Jerome Riquet, the menacing words which the valet had made use of filled his mind with apprehensions, lest some suspicion should be raised up in the mind of the King, or of Louvois, that he himself had had a share in the disappearance of the paper. Not so, however, Pelisson, who, though he had learnt the lesson of sycophancy and flattery with wonderful aptitude, was naturally a man of courage and resolution, and before Monsieur de St. Helie could well finish what he had to say, he exclaimed aloud,--