"Lecour."
Mystery had a fascination for de Lotbinière. Not so for Louis, who was impatient that so seedy a person should presume to stop them. Still, on being handed the paper, he condescended to remain.
"Craving pardon, my Lord," said Jude—it was of course he—in a low voice, "I have word for you in this affair. Your powerful movements are known to me."
"Indeed?"
"I know your sentiments on the impostor."
"And you wish me to buy some information from you?"
"Monsieur le Marquis—he is my enemy also: I ask no price, only your co-operation with a humble individual like myself."
"Speak on."
"It is all letters to day, my Lord. I heard you both discuss that of Madame de Léry."
"You are a spy, then?" asked Louis tartly, scorn flashing across his face.