“Is she alone in the tower-room, Antoine?”
“Ah! Monsieur does me even a greater honor. He admits me to his friendship by making use of one of my baptismal names in addressing himself to me. No; she is not alone. Monsieur Jean de Cadillac is with her; but later? Yes. She will be alone. He will not remain. He has gone to plead his hopeless cause again.”
“And who besides the count is there with her?”
“There is no one, monsieur.”
“Then, come. We will go there at once. You will lead the way. I have something to say to him as well.”
“But monsieur is mad to think of such a thing. There are a hundred armed men in this castle, all ready to do the bidding of the count at a mere gesture of his hand. Perhaps the Monsieur Cartier does not know, but they are smugglers. This is their headquarters. It is to this place where they bring the spoils of their trade. And it is I who am also a prisoner here as well as mademoiselle. I discovered the smugglers’ secrets, unwisely. I have been detained a prisoner two years. I have the freedom of the château—yes—but beyond it? La, la! If I should attempt that, a bullet would stop me. But there is one among the smugglers—yes—who is my friend. It was through him whereby I hoped to mail the letters, although I greatly fear they might not have gone. But monsieur is mad to think of going to the tower while the count is there. There are a hundred armed men in the château, and he has but to signal to them.”
“I don’t care if there are a thousand,” said Nick. “Take me there.”
“If monsieur insists——”
“I do insist.”