Rochefort knocked at this door and entered the room, followed by Sartines.
It was a small but beautifully furnished writing-room. Choiseul was standing before the fireplace, with his hands behind his back. He seemed in meditation, and raising his head, bowed slightly to the Count whilst Sartines closed the door and took a position on the right.
Sartines, as he came to a halt, produced his snuff-box, tapped it, opened it, and took a pinch.
“Well, Monsieur de Rochefort,” said Choiseul, “you wish to speak to me?”
“Yes, monsieur,” replied Rochefort, “I wish to make an explanation. Some days ago, at his Majesty’s palace of Versailles, you in your discretion, and acting under your powers, thought fit to issue a warrant for the arrest of my person, and you entrusted this business to two of your gentlemen, M. le Comte Camus and M. d’Estouteville.”
Choiseul nodded slightly.
“I resisted that arrest, monsieur, not because I was conscious of having done any wrong and not because I dreaded any consequences that might arise from false information given against me. I resisted arrest simply because I was going to Paris on important business and did not wish to be stopped.”
“Oh!” said Choiseul, “you were going to Paris on important business and did not wish to be stopped. Indeed! And you have come here to tell me that you resisted an order of the State because you were going to Paris and did not wish to be stopped!”
Choiseul’s voice would have frozen an ordinary man, and few men in Rochefort’s position could have stood under the gaze of his cold grey eyes unmoved.
“I came to tell you absolutely the truth, monsieur. Yes, I resisted the order of the State for private reasons, but I will add this, my reasons were not entirely personal. I had to meet a lady——”