"Speak——"
Gabriel Pochard shrugged. "Last night, late, a man came in here to see me, a man wearing old clothing and a three weeks' growth of beard. It was Monsieur 'Orton. He was very much excited and told me a remarkable story that rivals the tales of Monsieur Hugo."
"Yes, I understand. Go on."
"He said he was wounded upon the battlefield at night, when out of the darkness appeared just beside him the very image of himself. It was his twin brother, whom he had not seen for five years, a brother with whom he did not speak."
"Ah—it was what I thought——"
"The brother took from Monsieur 'Orton his uniform and went on, leading his men to victory. It was the fight of Boissière Wood. You have heard?"
Piquette nodded.
"This interloper took Monsieur 'Orton's uniform, his rank and identity, and now comes back to Paris—to Monsieur 'Orton's own apartment, and Monsieur 'Orton's wife——"
Piquette had started to her feet, her fingers grasping the shoulder of Gabriel.
"His wife!" she broke in.