"But a fool as well as a liar," said I. "How could he think that such a story was to be swallowed? To have thrown him into confusion, I should have told him that I had overheard the plan for my capture, that I knew of an attempt to be made to get me from my men, that mademoiselle has never made any such attempt either by tryst or summons or on any pretext whatever."
"Neither has De Berquin," answered Blaise, sullenly, "and yet you think he was the spy whom the governor sent."
"He had no opportunity," I replied, rather sharply, annoyed at Blaise's manner. "He did not dare come here until he had formed a desperate plan on which to hazard everything."
"As for mademoiselle's having had the opportunity and yet not having done so," Blaise went on, with a kind of doggedness, "the spy was not to plan the ambush until the governor should arrive at Clochonne."
"By God!" I cried. "Do you dare hint that you credit this villain's lie for a moment?" In my exasperation I half drew my sword.
"I credit nothing and discredit nothing," he said, in a low but stubborn tone, "but I place no one above doubt, except God and you. I have had my thoughts, monsieur, and have them still. It is enough, as yet, to keep all eyes open and turned in many directions."
"You cur! You dare to suspect—" Without finishing the sentence, I struck him across the face with the back of my hand.
He drew a deep breath, but made no movement.
"I shall not trouble myself to suspect," he went on, with no change of tone, "until we know that M. de la Chatre is at Clochonne,—"
"We know that already," I broke in, hotly. "Marianne brought the news this afternoon."