It may have been fancy or not; but it seemed to me that, as once before, I saw the wraith of a smile flit stealthily along his thin lips. He was standing in front of me, holding my rapier, and his eyes were bent down on the polished steel hilt as I spoke.
At first he made no answer, and I repeated my question. This time he looked me full in the face, and the whole expression of the man changed—his cheeks paled, his eyes dilated, his voice took a shrill pitch.
'I cannot tell, monsieur. It comes and goes like the wind. There is a Fear that falls on me—a Fear and something, I know not what, beside; but all before my eyes is red—red as if it rained blood—and then a myriad of devils are whispering in my ears, and there is no safety for me but the cross and prayer. It has passed now—God be thanked! Will Monsieur not take his sword?'
His voice dropped again to its low, soft note as he ended, and handed me my rapier. I buckled it on, thinking to myself, 'My friend, you are either a lunatic at large or a finished actor. In either case you won't do for me.' I said no more, however, but when he gave me my hat he asked:
'Will Monsieur require me in attendance?'
'Yes. I go to the Hôtel de Belin, and I trust this will be the last of your attacks whilst you are with me. The Compte told me you had been a Flagellant, but had recovered.'
'I have been well for a long time, monsieur,' he answered, taking my humour—'I will try and get ill no more.'
'I am glad of that. Saddle Couronne. I go out at once—you can follow on foot.'
'Monsieur.'
The next moment he was gone, and I heard him running down the stairs. It would take a few minutes to get Couronne ready, but I followed him down at once, as I had an inquiry to make from Madame Pantin. I heard someone moving below in the kitchen, and, thinking it was dame Annette, called down the winding stair: