“My God!” I cried.
“’Tis useless to appeal to Him,” mocked du Trémigon. “Rather do you fall back on your mother-wit—if you have any—to help you.”
“What do you wish me to do?” I asked desperately.
“’Tis very simple. We are about the same height and build. We do not look unlike——”
“You flatter me!”
“’Tis the fact that does that,” he replied, bowing deeply. “In the dusk you can easily pass for me, especially if you wear a familiar suit of my clothes. I will get you into the grounds of the Hôtel de Rivau-Huet below Mademoiselle’s apartments. The building is vine-covered. Being a sailor you can easily scale the wall and enter her chamber. You are to bring me thence some article of personal wearing apparel—say a slipper, or a ring, or——”
“Is that all?”
“That’s all.”
“Why don’t you do it yourself?”
“It is hardly necessary to enter upon that, Monsieur.”