For, now, that word, the word which Humphrey had caught was "Sangdieu," and Sangdieu was the principal exclamation ever on La Truaumont's lips.
Being no eavesdropper, as has been said, Humphrey decided that this was no discourse for him to be passing his night in listening to. It concerned him not that the worthy captain should be sitting up towards the small hours discussing De Beaurepaire and his doings with some strange woman who, for aught he, Humphrey, knew, was an accessory to the flight of the Duchess towards her family in Italy. A woman who, he reflected, might have come from Italy by order of the Duchess to escort her across the Alps and to assist her in scaling the rugged pass of the St. Bernard as easily as might be: perhaps a gouvernante who would take all trouble into her own hands and see her charge safely delivered into those of her relations.
"Yes, doubtless that is so," Humphrey said, as he lay back on his pillow and prepared to continue his night's rest. "Doubtless. And to-morrow I shall know all. Likewise, by daylight, I will discover how it is those voices penetrate so easily into this room."
He turned, therefore, over on his side again and once more prepared to continue his night's rest, when, almost ere he had closed his eyes in that vain hope, he plainly heard the word "Louise" uttered, followed by the sibilant "Hsh" from the woman, this being followed in its turn by the words, "The man you admire may rise even higher yet than the proud position of a De Beaurepaire."
A moment later he heard La Truaumont exclaim clearly and distinctly, "He may become a king."
Listening eagerly now--for this was indeed strange matter to stumble on in the dead of the night, he next heard the low clear voice of the woman in that room exclaim:--
"A king! A king of France! Oh! it is impossible."
After which there was silence for some moments; a silence followed by other words uttered so low that Humphrey could not hear them, they being shortly followed by the sound of a door opened softly and shut equally softly an instant later, and then by the stealthy, cautious step of a man passing along the passage. The step of, as Humphrey understood very well, La Truaumont going to his room at the farther end of that passage.
That Humphrey West should find sleep again after overhearing this conversation was scarcely probable. In listening to it, in being forced to listen to that conversation when once awakened by it, he had indeed become possessed of strange knowledge.
He had become possessed, firstly, of the knowledge that some other woman than the Duchess admired De Beaurepaire, namely, the woman who had been in that next room but a short time before, and not the one who was in the next room on the other side; not the woman whom the Prince had seen safely through the gates of Paris when escaping from her cruel husband's house.