"The very man I wanted," he said. "I came here to think of you. I always come here when in doubt or trouble—and here you are—dropped from the clouds." He poured out some wine for me, and when we had drank a health together he asked me:
"Eh bien, monsieur, tell me how you came here; tell me all, for I am a friend."
It was impossible not to see this, and in a few words I told him. He listened gravely the while, stroking his ape's head.
When I had done he spoke. "I too have something to tell you. There is an outcry about Madame Diane's Italian—the first time an outcry has been made about any such scum. This morning there was a scene at the petit couvert. I was there. The short of it is that the King, my gossip, sided with his mistress as against Vendôme. Words ran so high that the Duke was ordered to leave Paris, which he did at once."
I looked at the ring on my finger, and Le Brusquet saw the look.
"I fear," he said, "that little talisman has lost its power for the present; but, to go on, I had other business in the morning which I could not avoid. Towards eleven o'clock I hastened to the Rue des Lavandières to return your sword and to warn you. To my relief you were not there. Your hermit's paradise is gone, and an angel, in the form of one of M. Morin's guards, is at the door. Instead of a flaming sword he carries an arquebus——"
"It is quick work," I cut in; "and they have seized everything, I suppose?"
"Yes; everything. And your ostensible accuser and witness against you is one Camus, a glove-maker. He laid an information against you at sunrise. He was with Valentinois an hour later. Diane rises with the dawn, you know; and he is her glove-maker."
"So he has struck hard, and struck quickly."
"Yes; there is very little glove about his action. And more, Diane seems bent upon avenging the death of her Italian. But, monsieur, what is your next move?"