"I was hot-headed and in wine." Victor had an idea in regard to the vicomte.
"The devil is always lurking in the pot; so let us not stir him again."
"Willingly."
"I compliment you on your good sense. Monsieur, I've been thinking seriously. Has it not occurred to you that Madame de Brissac has that paper?"
"Would she seek Spain?" said Victor.
"True. But supposing Mazarin should be seeking her, paper or no paper, to force the truth from her?"
"The supposition, does not balance. She knows no more than you or I."
"And Monsieur le Comte's play-woman?"
"Horns of Panurge!" excitedly. "You have struck a new note, Vicomte. I recollect hearing that she was confined in some one of the city prisons. The sooner the Saint Laurent sails, the better."
"Would that some one we knew would romp into town from Paris. He might have news." The vicomte bit the ends of his mustache.