"We are friends," came the answer, quickly.
This voice also I knew, as well as Maugert's. It was that of De Berquin.
I ran to the gate and heard him tell Maugert, who covered him with an arquebus, match lighted, that he was seeking the abode of the Sieur de la Tournoire, for whom he had important news.
"Let him come, Maugert!" I called from the gate.
I stepped back into the courtyard. At that moment Blaise came out of the château. Very soon De Berquin strode in through the gateway, followed by the burly Barbemouche. Both looked wayworn and fatigued.
"Monsieur de la Tournoire," said De Berquin, saluting me with fine grace and a pleasant air,—he never lost the ways of a gallant gentleman,—"I have come here to do you a service."
So! thought I, does he really intend to seek my confidence and try to betray me, after all? Admirable self-assurance!
I was about to answer, when Barbemouche put in;
"So you, whom it was in my power to kill a hundred times over that night, are the very Tournoire whom I chased from one end of France to the other eight years ago?" And he looked me over with a frank curiosity.
"Yes," I said, with a smile, "after you had destroyed the home of my fathers. And at last you have found me."