“Have you killed him?” demanded the cardinal, a suppressed eagerness in his tone.
Péron was kneeling on one knee beside the unconscious man, flushed and short of breath from the struggle.
“Nay, monsignor,” he said, “’tis but a swoon.”
“I thought you would use your weapons,” said Richelieu, slowly.
Péron raised his head proudly.
“I never strike a man in the back, your eminence,” he said.
“It is the more likely that you will be struck there,” retorted Richelieu, dryly; “summon aid and have this carrion removed to a place of security; then I have other orders for you.”
In a few moments M. de Nançay’s unconscious form was raised and carried out of the room, and Péron again stood alone before Richelieu. The cardinal had seated himself calmly and was arranging the papers thrown out of place when the table was overturned.
“Sieur de Calvisson,” he said, addressing Péron by his new name, “I have put a dozen men at your disposal; take them and go at once to the Hôtel de Nançay on the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre. Search the house, secure all the papers, and arrest any suspect within it, leaving a sufficient guard to prevent any person, man or woman, from entering or quitting it. Do all this quickly and return to report to me.”
Péron bowed and retired. The cardinal followed him with his eyes until the door closed behind him, then he leaned back in his chair and looked at the clock.