He was ushered almost immediately into the presence of Lord Wentworth, who received him with his air of accustomed gravity, which seemed almost to be positively gloomy on this occasion.
When he had explained the purpose of his mission and had placed a bag filled with gold upon the table, the Englishman asked,—
"Did Vicomte d'Exmès simply instruct you to hand me this money, and add no message for me?"
Pierre (so the messenger was called) looked at Lord Wentworth with an open-mouthed astonishment which did little credit to his natural talents.
"My Lord," said he at last, "I have no commission to execute with you except to hand you the ransom. At least my master gave me no further instructions; and I do not understand—"
"Oh, it's all right!" Lord Wentworth interposed with a disdainful smile. "I see that Monsieur le Vicomte d'Exmès has become more reasonable since I last saw him. I congratulate him that such is the case. The air of the court of France induces forgetfulness! so much the better for those who breathe it!"
He muttered beneath his breath as if speaking to himself,—
"Indeed, the power to forget is often the better half of happiness!"
"Has my Lord any message to send to my master?" rejoined the messenger, who seemed to listen with a very careless and stupid air to these melancholy asides of the Briton.
"I have nothing to say to Monsieur d'Exmès, since he sends no word to me," retorted Lord Wentworth, dryly. "You may say to him, however, if you choose, that for another month—that is, until January 1, do you understand-I shall be at his service in both my capacities, as a gentleman and as governor of Calais. He will understand."