"If that is so, madame, I will not fail.—Ah! the most important thing is to find that girl!"
The Marquis de Santoval had no sooner left his wife's apartment, than she ran to Miretta, clasped her hands, and almost knelt to her, saying, in a trembling voice and with tears in her eyes:
"Miretta! I implore you! do not say that it was you! do not make yourself known! My life depends on your silence!—You will not say that it was you? promise me!"
"I will wait, madame," the girl replied, with a sombre expression; "to obey you, I will wait; but Giovanni must be avenged!"
LV
THE CARDINAL DE RICHELIEU
When Léodgard fell bleeding in the courtyard of the abode of his ancestors, the concierge, having come from his lodge to ascertain who had entered, uttered a cry of distress on recognizing his master lying on the pavement. But the latter, who, notwithstanding the gravity of his wound, was entirely conscious, ordered the concierge not to give the alarm in the house, but simply to call a servant to aid in taking him to his apartment.
Then, while the concierge left him to carry out this order, Léodgard, despite his pain and his great weakness, succeeded, by dint of rolling over and over on the ground, in extricating himself from the olive-green cloak in which he was enveloped; he then folded the garment and held it against his breast until his people arrived.
The count was carried to his apartment, as he desired; and while he was being transported thither, he did not relax his hold of the olive-green cloak and the short, broad sword with which he was armed.
When he was safely in bed, the wounded man bade the servant tell the countess and request her to come to him.
"And I, monseigneur, will run to fetch a doctor," said the concierge.