“I think M. d’Antoine is a man of honour, and I hope that we may have nothing to fear.”
The letter ran as, follows:
“Either at your hotel or at my residence, or at any other place you may wish to appoint, I entreat you, sir, to give me an opportunity of conversing with you on a subject which must be of the greatest importance to you.
“I have the honour to be, etc.
“D’ANTOINE.”
It was addressed M. Farusi.
“I think I must see him,” I said, “but where?”
“Neither here nor at his residence, but in the ducal gardens. Your answer must name only the place and the hour of the meeting.”
I wrote to M. d’Antoine that I would see him at half-past eleven in the ducal gardens, only requesting him to appoint another hour in case mine was not convenient to him.
I dressed myself at once in order to be in good time, and meanwhile we both endeavoured, Henriette and I, to keep a cheerful countenance, but we could not silence our sad forebodings. I was exact to my appointment and found M. d’Antoine waiting for me. As soon as we were together, he said to me,