"He did not hear me, monsieur, and he did not answer when I spoke, but his eyes were open and bright. Presently, as I stood in a corner of the room, he began talking as if to some person. Then suddenly he sprang up, his face was white, and his eyes stared as if they had seen something dreadful, and he trembled all over. I called his name, and he glanced round in a frightened way as if surprised to find himself in a room."
"Did he make any remark?"
"He said he had been dreaming, and made me take him into the street to clear the cobwebs from his brain. I think the same dream came again afterwards, but he would not speak of it, though once I heard him mutter to himself, 'It was the Porte St. Antoine!'"
"The Porte St. Antoine?" I cried, more astonished than ever; "that is where he declared I should meet him next!"
"There are many strange things for which we cannot account, monsieur!" exclaimed Pillot—a remark which, though true enough, gave me small comfort.
The little man did his best to cheer me, but it was a dreary ride notwithstanding, and he must have been glad when towards evening we reached St. Germain. Having given Mazarin the Marshal's note, and finding the time at my own disposal, I went to seek Humphreys.
"Well, my friend, so you have returned," exclaimed the jovial Englishman. "You look tired and troubled. Is anything wrong?"
"I have seen Raoul."
"That should not have depressed you! So he is back with the army? I thought he would not stay quiet long."
"It is on Raoul's account I am uneasy," I replied, and without more ado, described the change that had come over him, and repeated his mysterious words.