"Are you not ashamed to be caught plotting with a Mazarin?"
"Ah! I forgot that you knew M. de Lalande!"
"Oh, yes," said I, "this gentleman and I are warm friends. He shows me to my inn, comes to my rooms, and invites me to go with him on his parties of pleasure."
Laughing lightheartedly, young D'Arçy took my arm.
"You rascal!" he cried, "it is fortunate we are at peace, or I should have to run you through for the honour of the Fronde. You made us the laughing-stock of Paris."
I inquired if he had released the prisoner at the inn, on which he gave us such a comical account of the dwarf's unhappy plight that we could not keep from laughing aloud.
"Who was he?" asked Raoul.
"Pillot the dwarf, the trusty henchman of De Retz."
"That is awkward for you," said Raoul turning to me. "Pillot is a cunning rogue, and is now hand in glove with your cousin. Really, Albert, you must take care of yourself, you have raised up a host of enemies already."
"And the Italian cannot save you!" remarked D'Arçy, with a superior air; "his own downfall is at hand. Alas, my poor friend, I pity you."