And the lieutenant at the Chatelet did not put himself to much trouble to hearten me. ‘What! again M. de Berault?’ he said, raising his eyebrows as he received me at the gate, and recognised me by the light of the brazier which his men were just kindling outside. ‘You are a very bold man, or a very foolhardy one, to come here again. The old business, I suppose?’
‘Yes, but he is not dead,’ I answered coolly. ‘He has a trifle—a mere scratch. It was behind the church of St Jacques.’
‘He looked dead enough, my friend,’ the guardsman interposed. He had not yet left us.
‘Bah!’ I answered scornfully. ‘Have you ever known me make a mistake When I kill a man I kill him. I put myself to pains, I tell you, not to kill this Englishman. Therefore he will live.’
‘I hope so,’ the lieutenant said, with a dry smile. ‘And you had better hope so, too, M. de Berault, For if not—’
‘Well?’ I said, somewhat troubled. ‘If not, what, my friend?’
‘I fear he will be the last man you will fight,’ he answered. ‘And even if he lives, I would not be too sure, my friend. This time the Cardinal is determined to put it down.’
‘He and I are old friends,’ I said confidently.
‘So I have heard,’ he answered, with a short laugh. ‘I think that the same was said of Chalais. I do not remember that it saved his head.’
This was not reassuring. But worse was to come. Early in the morning orders were received that I should be treated with especial strictness, and I was given the choice between irons and one of the cells below the level. Choosing the latter, I was left to reflect upon many things; among others, on the queer and uncertain nature of the Cardinal, who loved, I knew, to play with a man as a cat with a mouse; and on the ill effects which sometimes attend a high chest-thrust however carefully delivered. I only rescued myself at last from these and other unpleasant reflections by obtaining the loan of a pair of dice; and the light being just enough to enable me to reckon the throws, I amused myself for hours by casting them on certain principles of my own. But a long run again and again upset my calculations; and at last brought me to the conclusion that a run of bad luck may be so persistent as to see out the most sagacious player. This was not a reflection very welcome to me at the moment.