Philibert ran again into the woods and disappeared.
"There is too much loss of blood—too much," the surgeon remarked gravely.
Lecour, wondering and agitated, divined, while the others were occupied, the identity of the visitant.
[CHAPTER XXIX]
THE LETTRE DE CACHET
Lecour had succeeded for a time in baffling the forces arrayed against him.
The next turn was made by de Lotbinière, who entered in his journal his intention of now speaking to the following persons, in their order—
- The Minister,
- Répentigny,
- The Chevalier de Villerai,
- Vaudreuil,
- The Genealogist of France,
- The Prince de Poix,
- The Maréchale de Noailles,
- The Baroness de la Roche Vernay.
He went to the first on the list and obtained an interview in private with his chief secretary, from which he issued with a large sealed envelope, which contained a handsome parchment in blank, signed "Louis." It was a lettre de cachet, one of those warrants by which a man might, without warning to his friends or any charge laid, be arrested and imprisoned in one of those fortresses whose walls were so many living graves. He took it to the lodgings of Répentigny.
"Pierre, I am on the campaign against your namesake!" exclaimed he.