“You are mistaken,” replied Péron, “I have been ordered to escort a lady and her woman to Poissy, nothing more.”
His tone silenced Choin without entirely convincing him, but they completed the business arrangements without further delay. There was but little time to spare, and the fencing-master promised to meet Péron at the corner of the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre at the appointed hour. Well satisfied with his transaction, the musketeer was making his way to the public entrance when he was suddenly accosted by a young man, very gayly attired and with a painted face. A second glance told Péron that it was his acquaintance of the previous day, the Sieur de Vesson.
“Sir musketeer,” said the courtier, fiercely, “you escaped yesterday, but later you and I will have a reckoning.”
“You may spin in a circle as often as you please, sir popinjay,” replied Péron, with a shrug, “but wash the rouge off your cheeks and eat strong meat before you try to fight with men.”
The dandy stared at him in violent rage.
“Your jest will be a sorry one when next we meet!” he exclaimed.
“By that time you may be old enough to grow a moustache, monsieur,” retorted Péron with a laugh, as he walked on and left the young fellow fuming in impotent fury.
CHAPTER XIV
THE HOUSE AT POISSY
WHEN Péron met Choin and his company at the corner of the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre, he had discarded his uniform and wore a dress more becoming to his actual station in life. It was a simple suit of dark blue with a short velvet cloak, and sword, and a hat with plumes, and his collar of rare Flemish lace was one which Madame Michel had produced from the chests in the attic. The change in apparel made a marked one in his appearance, and he looked the man of rank rather than the soldier of fortune. Even Choin noticed it, and glanced keenly at the well made figure and the handsome face of his quondam pupil. The maître d’armes had faithfully executed his part of the bargain, and was waiting with three rough and powerful-looking men-at-arms, who wore the nondescript dress of mercenary soldiers and had the air of being indifferent to the nature of their employment so long as it furnished money for liquor. They had also the two led horses for the women; and after a brief inspection of his party, Péron proceeded at once to the Hôtel de Nançay, where his guards were still on duty. They reported that all was quiet within and without, and that no one had made any attempt either to enter or to leave the house.
It was with no very pleasant anticipations that Péron knocked at the door, and he was not surprised at the delay which followed. He had directed Choin and his men to ride into the lane to the garden gate, that their errand might be less conspicuous, and he was alone on the steps except for the sentinel who sat at the threshold, drowsy with his continuous and unexciting vigil. Péron was forced to knock three times, and was conscious that he was being scrutinized from the windows above, as he had been on the day before. At last, the door was opened reluctantly by a stout young woman with a plain face and sharp black eyes, who looked at him with a frown of displeasure; evidently she had been made to undo the latch against her own judgment.