"Monsieur l'abbé," he said, "I am ready to listen to you. Pardon me if important duties have compelled me to keep you waiting a long while for this appointment. You know that I have had to go to Paris to fetch Monsieur le Duc d'Enghien; then I was obliged to find another nurse for him, she whom his mother had selected having no more milk than a stone; and then—But let us speak of yourself, who seem to me to be a man of resolution. Resolution is a fine thing; but I am surprised to find you so persistent in appealing to me concerning such a trivial affair. Your clodhopper of—What do you call the place?"
"Briantes," replied the rector, respectfully.
The prince glanced furtively at him, and saw, beneath his humility, an air of assurance which disturbed him.
It is a peculiarity of great minds to seek to fathom and make use of the forces with which they come in contact. The prince was too suspicious not to be timid. His first impulse was not so much to make use of people as to refrain from doing so.
He affected indifference.
"Very good," he said; "your clodhopper of Briantes has killed in single combat, or rather in a singular combat and in a suspicious way, a certain—What is the dead man's name?"
"Sciarra d'Alvimar."
"Ah! yes, I know! I have inquired about him; he was a man of no consequence, and one who fought unfairly himself. The fellows must have been evenly matched. What does it matter to you, after all?"
"I love my duty," replied the rector, "and my duty bade me not to allow a crime to go unpunished. Monsieur Sciarra was a good Catholic, Monsieur de Bois-Doré is a Huguenot."
"Has he not abjured?"