It was a thing easier ordered than done, but I managed it somehow, trying to be as brief as possible, without missing a point. Sully listened without a movement of his stern features, only his eyes seemed to harden like crystal as I spoke of Biron and Zamet. When I told what I heard of the death of Madame de Beaufort, he turned his head to the open window and kept it thus until I ended. When he looked back again at me, however, there was not a trace of emotion in his features, and his voice was as cold and measured as ever as he asked:
'And your reward for this news, chevalier?'
'Is not to be measured in pistoles, monseigneur.'
'I see; and is this all?'
His tone chilled me. 'It is all—no,' and with a sudden thought, 'give me twenty men, and in a week I put the traitors in your hands.'
He fairly laughed out. 'Corbœuf! Monsieur le chevalier, do you want to set France ablaze?'
'It seems, monseigneur, that the torch is held at Anet,' I answered a little sulkily.
'But not lighted yet; leave the dealing with that to me. And, monsieur, the King is at Fontainebleau, and for a month nothing can be done. And see here, monsieur, I can do nothing for you; you follow. At the end of a month go and see the King. Tell him your story, and, if he believes you, claim your reward. I will go so far as to promise that you will be received.'
All the little hope I had begun to gather fluttered away at these words like a scrap of paper cast in the wind. 'Monseigneur,' I said, and my voice sounded strangely even to my own ears, 'in a month it will be too late.'
'Leave that to me,' he answered. 'I have a reminder always before my eyes,' and he pointed through the open window in the direction of a house that towered above the others surrounding it.