"I understand," said Martin-Guerre, "something about the strength of the garrison, is it not, or about the weak spots in the fortifications? What untiring zeal!"
"You don't understand anything at all about it," said Gabriel, smiling. "No, I know all that I want to know about the ramparts and the troops; and it is with a matter more—more personal that I am occupied just now."
"Speak, Monseigneur; and if I can help you in any way—"
"Yes, Martin, you are, I know, a faithful servant and a devoted friend, so I have no secrets from you except those which do not belong to me. If you don't know whom I am seeking for anxiously and fondly in this town, after my duties are done, Martin, it must be because you have forgotten."
"Oh, pardon, Monseigneur, I know now!" cried Martin. "It is, is it not, a—a Benedictine?"
"It is, Martin. What can have become of her in this panic-stricken town. In truth, I didn't dare to ask Monsieur l'Amiral for fear of betraying myself by my distress. And then, too, would he have been able to answer? Diane changed her name, no doubt, when she entered the convent."
"Yes," rejoined Martin; "for I must say that which she bore, and which is a lovely name in my opinion, has a slightly heathenish sound, because of Madame de Poitiers, I suppose. Sister Diane! The fact is that that name is as offensive as my other self when he is tipsy."
"What shall I do, then?" said Gabriel. "The best way would be perhaps to inquire, in the first place, about the Benedictine convent in a general way."
"Yes," said Martin-Guerre; "and then we will go from the general to the particular, as my old curé used to say when he was suspected of being a Lutheran. Well, Monseigneur, I am at your orders to make these inquiries, as for every other purpose."
"We must go about it separately, Martin; and then we shall have two chances instead of one. Be careful and reserved, and try above all things not to drink, you incorrigible tippler! We need all our self-possession."