“The charge is perfectly correct, monsieur, but your informant did not tell all.”
“Walking home with Comte Camus I rescued a woman from two men who were maltreating her. I pursued one of the men, he attacked me and I killed him. I returned only to find the unfortunate woman whom I had rescued being assaulted by Count Camus. I struck him in the face and rolled him in the gutter, and he has never yet sought redress for that assault which I made upon him.”
“What is this you say?” asked Choiseul.
“The truth, monsieur,” replied Rochefort proudly.
Now Lavenne that evening, on taking over the police arrangements for Choiseul’s reception, had given special instructions to Vallone, one of his subordinates who had nothing to do with the policing of the reception, who, as a matter of fact, was a spy of the Hôtel de Sartines engaged in the service of Choiseul. It was Vallone, in fact, who had given Sartines the information that Choiseul had sent the note which the Comtesse de Béarn had received in the basket of flowers.
Lavenne had given the man instructions to watch Count Camus as a cat watches a mouse, and Lavenne, just at this moment, was standing unobserved watching the throng passing in and out of the salon where refreshments were served. He saw Vallone leave the salon. Vallone glanced about, saw Lavenne and came rapidly towards him.
“Well,” said Lavenne, “what is it?”
“Monsieur, you told me to watch Count Camus, and more especially should he use a dagger to cut fruit with.”
“Yes—yes?”