"True, my friend, but I am also in the hands of De Retz, which is hardly as pleasant. It seems that I have suddenly become a person of some consequence!"
"Sufficiently important to have made many enemies, monsieur!"
"De Retz among them?"
"Chut! no; he would be pleased to call you his friend. I was thinking of personal enemies like M. Peleton and the Baron Maubranne. The Abbé and M. de Lalande will only use you for the good of the Cause; but I distrust the others."
"The good of the Cause? You speak in riddles, my friend!"
"It is necessary, monsieur; as it is, I have spoken too much."
"But you will answer one other question? Why did that wretched François prowl about the Rue Crillon?"
Pillot burst into a peal of such merry laughter that I thought he would be choked, and it was long before he could reply.
"Pardon me, monsieur," he exclaimed at length, "but really the joke was excellent. François acted the spy only when you were about; and simply to attract your attention. He was the bait, and you—pardon the expression—were the fish, though I, for one, did not expect to see you landed so easily."
Pillot's explanation made the affair a trifle plainer, and showed how foolishly I had acted. Instead of being a stupid dolt, this François was really a clever fellow, who had tricked me admirably. My cheeks burned as I saw what a dupe I had been. As a matter of fact, he could have slipped away at any moment, instead of which he had purposely lured me on. His hesitation at the corner of the cul-de-sac, his apparent attempt to dash past me, his whining answers, all had their purpose, and, while I reckoned myself master of the situation, Pillot and the third man were creeping out of their hiding-places. Truly, I had myself been a stupid dolt!