“But,” persisted the woman, “I have been tell zat she taked a bateau near zis tavern, m’sieur.”
“Well, mayhap she did, lass; lots of folk do, but I have not seen her,” and the landlord started away.
“You have no seen her, m’sieur? She was so much beautiful, my mistress, Lucille. Now she been lost to me,” and there came a trace of tears into the voice.
Where had I heard it before? The name--but then Lucille was a common enough name. Yet my heart beat a little more quickly. I went to where I could look in the room to see the woman. The landlord was on his way out, and the face of his visitor was toward me.
It was Nanette, Lucille’s servant!
She saw me, and her face lighted up.
“Oh, m’sieur Captain!” she exclaimed, fairly running toward me, and lapsing into rapid French. “You have found her then? Oh, I thought she was lost.”
“Who?” I asked, coldly.
“Why, Lucille. Mistress de Guilfort; your--your--surely, Captain, you----”
“You mean Mistress Keith, the wife of Sir George Keith,” I interrupted, and was about to go away.