Vesson shook his head. “Nay,” he rejoined in the same low voice, “trust monsignor for knowing his man; and that young fellow is not made of the stuff which is easily corrupted.”
“He claimed to be a Calvisson,” said the younger Vesson; “did you hear him at the inn?”
“I did not heed him,” returned his father, and then added, after a sharp look at Péron: “Pardieu! Can it be possible? I see a likeness now—the likeness that has troubled me since I first saw the fellow. Can it be?—after all these years?”
This conversation was held apart, but Péron saw the change in their looks and gestures and marvelled at it. Meanwhile, Neff had made a curious discovery which caused him to stare open-mouthed from the prisoner to his own superiors.
“M. de Vesson, I have found the token on his person!” he cried, holding up Renée’s watch in evident amazement.
There was an exclamation of surprise from all the others except M. de Vesson, who received the statement calmly.
“Yes,” he said, “I remember; it was the token that led to the error at St. Gudule.”
This speech was all that was needed to convince Péron that these men were the same he had met in the house of Marie de’ Medici, and he kept his lips resolutely closed although Père Matthieu’s ball pressed hard into his tongue.
There was another low-voiced consultation between the leaders, the three younger evidently urging a course of which M. de Vesson did not approve, and after some dispute he prevailed.
“To horse!” he said. “A day’s journey without breakfast may do much to moderate this fellow’s obstinacy. Forward therefore, gentlemen, without delay.”