“Mordieu, yes! The Dubarrys’ house has been watched all day. When I drove up in this carriage, I saw one of Choiseul’s agents, who, without doubt, tried to question my coachman whilst I was in the house; a perfectly useless proceeding, as my coachman is Sergeant Bonvallot. I know quite well, now, that there is a man running after us, so do as I say.”
Rochefort put his head out and gave the direction.
“My faith!” said he, as he resumed his place, “but they are keen, the Choiseuls.”
“They are more than that. You cannot guess at all the way this matter has stirred the whole court. Of course, when the thing is over and done with, and the presentation an accomplished matter, the Comtesse will not be able to number her friends. But she is lost if Choiseul succeeds, and if she succeeds Choiseul is lost. Once give her an accredited place at court, and the breaking of Choiseul will be only the matter of a few months.”
“Sartines,” said the young man with that daring which gave him permission to say things other men would not have dreamed of saying, “you are not doing this for love of the Dubarry?”
“I?” said de Sartines. “I am doing it to break Choiseul.”
The carriage which had entered the Rue de Longueville stopped at a house on the left, and the two men got out.