“Better that he slept. I shall, however, go in and sit by the bedside until he awakes. I will not disturb him in the least.” So saying, Marcilly gently pushed open the door leading into the bedroom and passed within.
Vaux, with a careless sweep of his hand, knocked down his house of cards, and as he gathered the pack together, looked at us, saying:
“Shall we take hands, messieurs, to while away the time?”
“With pleasure,” replied de Bresy, “but three is an unlucky number. Comminges shall make the fourth.”
He turned to the door as if to call out, and Vaux bit his lip with anger as he just flashed a glance at me. I was, however, in time.
“It is needless, de Bresy. I cannot touch a card to-day. I know not what it is, but I have no humor for it.”
“Oh, come! But a few rounds,” said de Bresy, as he turned to me, picked up some cards, and began shuffling them in his hand.
While he spoke Vaux had made a movement toward the window. He was behind de Bresy now, and his poniard gleamed in his hand. I held him with a look, and de Bresy went on, all unknowing of the danger behind him.
“’Tis a curious pack this, Vibrac. Do you see the illuminations on the backs of the cards?”
“Yes. I noticed them before. They are Viterbo cards, I think.”