"Or for me to fall into it myself," he thought, laughing.
He felt very gay, very free from care; and no fight had ever looked more promising to him.
A footman came from the castle with the telegram which he had told Doudeville to send him and which the postman had just brought. He opened it and put it in his pocket.
A little before twelve o'clock, he met Pierre Leduc in one of the avenues and said, off-hand:
"I am looking for you . . . things are serious. . . . You must answer me frankly. Since you have been at the castle, have you ever seen a man there, besides the two German servants whom I sent in?"
"No."
"Think carefully. I'm not referring to a casual visitor. I mean a man who hides himself, a man whose presence you might have discovered or, less than that, whose presence you might have suspected from some clue or even by some intuition?"
"No. . . . Have you . . . ?"
"Yes. Some one is hiding here . . . some one is prowling about. . . . Where? And who is it? And what is his object? I don't know . . . but I shall know. I already have a suspicion. Do you, on your side, keep your eyes open and watch. And, above all, not a word to Mrs. Kesselbach. . . . It is no use alarming her. . . ."