“Be careful,” I said to him at once; “you are in a delicate position—take no hasty step.”
“It can be nothing of importance,” he replied, “but I thank you for the caution, M. le Maréchal.”
With those words he went down the stairs to the door, and, Pierrot at the moment bringing in my breakfast, I sat down by the fire to eat it, while my equerry, giving place to Touchet, went to seek a little rest himself. In a moment Zénaïde came in through the corridor and joined me at the table.
“Who went out the door, Touchet?” she asked.
“M. de Lambert is talking to a lad there,” I explained.
“Not now,” she said at once; “some one went out and closed the door.”
I rose and went to the window in time to see M. de Lambert walking away alone and at a rapid pace.
“On some fool’s errand,” I muttered to myself, and went back to the chair, explaining the departure with impatience.
Zénaïde looked disturbed, and was yet more troubled when I found an opportunity to show her the passport.
“You should not have allowed him to go unattended, Philippe,” she said gravely; “he is surrounded by dangers and so rash and headstrong.”