"I hold the King's commission," he answered rather stiffly.
"To be sure," I replied. "But you see the Cardinal--"
"Ah, but the Cardinal--" he rejoined quickly; and then he stopped and shrugged his shoulders. And they both looked at me.
"Well?" I said.
"The King," he answered slowly.
"Tut-tut!" I exclaimed, spreading out my hands. "The Cardinal. Let us stick to him. You were saying?"
"Well, the Cardinal, you see--" And then again, after the same words, he stopped--stopped abruptly and shrugged his shoulders.
I began to suspect something. "If you have anything to say against Monseigneur," I answered, watching him narrowly, "say it. But take a word of advice. Don't let it go beyond the door of this room, my friend, and it will do you no harm."
"Neither here nor outside," he retorted, looking for a moment at his comrade. "Only I hold the King's commission. That is all. And I think enough. For the rest, will you throw a main? Good! Lieutenant, find a glass, and the gentleman a seat. And here, for my part, I will give you a toast. The Cardinal--whatever betide!"
I drank it, and sat down to play with him; I had not heard the music of the dice for a month, and the temptation was irresistible. But I was not satisfied. I called the mains and won his crowns,--he was a mere baby at the game,--but half my mind was elsewhere. There was something here I did not understand; some influence at work on which I had not counted; something moving under the surface as unintelligible to me as the soldiers' presence. Had the captain repudiated my commission altogether, and put me to the door or sent me to the guard-house, I could have followed that. But these dubious hints, this passive resistance, puzzled me. Had they news from Paris, I wondered. Was the King dead? or the Cardinal ill? I asked them. But they said no, no, no to all, and gave me guarded answers. And midnight found us still playing; and still fencing.