The Duke turned his head away to survey the room and Mademoiselle shot one glance, pregnant with agony and entreaty, at the old servant. He had been as a father to her from childhood—indeed, he had been her father’s foster-brother.
“Very well, Monsieur le Duc,” answered the servant.
I heard him crossing the room. What should I do? There was no place of concealment. The window happened to be barred, else I should have thrown myself from it. Should I fall upon him and run my sword through him? I drew the weapon, without making a sound, and waited. The door opened slowly and only partially, Éspiau saw me at once. He put his finger to his lips and closed his eyes.
“I see no one, Monsieur le Duc,” he said, turning his head.
“Examine thoroughly,” returned the old man.
Éspiau stepped into the room, looked under the bed, shook the curtains, making a deal of noise as he moved about, managing to say to me:
“Silence, as you value your life!”
Presently he returned to the others. I breathed a long sigh of relief. I remember wiping the sweat from my brow.
“Monsieur le Duc was doubtless mistaken,” said the old man quietly.
“Yes,” said the Duke; “I’m glad of it. Times are in such disorder. There are many masterless men about, and your apartment is easy of access from the garden. I must change it, Countess.”