“You overheard, Monsieur?” I whispered.
He leaned closer, his lips at my ear, his eyes dark with eagerness.
“Every word, Mademoiselle! Fear not, I shall yet learn the truth from this Cassion. You suspected?”
I shook my head, uncertain.
“My father died in that faith, Monsieur, but Chevet called me a beggar.”
“Chevet! no doubt he knows all, and has a dirty hand in the mess. He called you beggar, hey!––hush, the fellow comes.”
He was a picture of insolent servility, as he stood there bowing, his gay dress fluttering with ribbons, his face smiling, yet utterly expressionless. La Barre lifted his eyes, and surveyed him coldly.
“You sent for me, sir?”
“Yes, although I scarcely thought at this hour you would appear in the apparel of a dandy. I have chosen you for serious work, Monsieur, and the time 65 is near for your departure. Surely my orders were sufficiently clear?”
“They were, Governor la Barre,” and Cassion’s lips lost their grin, “and my delay in changing dress has occurred through the strange disappearance of Mademoiselle la Chesnayne. I left her with Major Callons while I danced with my lady, and have since found no trace of the maid.”