I should have heard more, but at that moment the main door opened, and two or three gentlemen who had been with the King came out. Not wishing to be seen watching the brawl, I moved away and descended the stairs; and Varenne overtaking me a moment later, and entering on the Biron affair—of which I had just been discussing the latest developments with the King—I forgot St. Mesmin for the time, and only recalled him next morning when Saintonge, being announced, came into my room in a state of great excitement, and almost with his first sentence brought out his name.
"Barradas has not killed him then?" I said, reproaching myself in a degree for my forgetfulness.
"No! He, Barradas!" Saintonge answered.
"No?" I exclaimed.
"Yes!" he said. "I tell you, M. le Marquis, he is a devil of a fellow—a devil of a fellow! He fought, I am told, just like Crillon; rushed in on that rascal and fairly beat down his guard, and had him pinned to the ground before he knew that they had crossed swords!"
"Well," I said, "there is one scoundrel the less. That is all."
"Ah, but that is not all!" my visitor replied more seriously. "It should be, but it is not; and it is for that reason I am come to you. You know St. Germain?"
"I know that his father and you are—well, that you take opposite sides," I said smiling.
"That is pretty well known," he answered coldly. "Anyway, this lad is to fight St. Germain to-morrow; and now I hear that M. de Clan, St. Germain's father, is for shutting him up. Getting a LETTRE DE CACHET or anything else you please, and away with him."
"What! St. Germain?" I said.