The king looked at his visitor. "Who are you?" he asked.
And Lagardere answered: "I am Henri de Lagardere."
At that moment Peyrolles, privileged as his master’s henchman, entered the tent and made his way to Gonzague’s side. "All is well," he whispered. "We have got the girl, and the papers are upon her."
The king was addressing Lagardere. "You are here at our pleasure—free to come, free to go, free to speak."
Lagardere answered, firmly: "I mean to speak."
The princess turned to him. "Will you give me back my daughter?"
Lagardere made her a bow. "In a few moments she will be in your arms."
At this moment Gonzague rose and interrupted. "Sire," he said, "I can tell you something of this man."
Lagardere glanced scornfully at Gonzague. "Sire," he said, "I can tell you something of this man." He advanced towards Gonzague and addressed him in a low tone: "On that September night I told you that if you did not come to Lagardere, Lagardere would come to you. You did not come. I am here." Then he turned to the princess. "Madame, here, as in the moat of Caylus Castle; here, as by the picture in your palace, I am wholly in your service."
Gonzague turned to the king with an appealing gesture. "I implore your majesty to let no one leave this place. If Monsieur de Lagardere is desirous of darkness and mystery, I ask only for light and truth."