The latter, meeting the man's eye at the same moment, recognized Robert Tournay. He started forward as if about to speak, then noticing the weapon in Tournay's hand and remembering the recent warning of St. Hilaire, he checked himself. Neither spoke, but the marquis could not repress a look of hatred, which was answered by a look of defiance by Tournay. Then the latter turned away with his companion leaning on his shoulder. The crowd closed up and he was soon lost to sight.
"They have killed Flesselle, the mayor of Paris," said the chevalier, as St. Hilaire joined him a moment later. "Well," he continued, as if in answer to St. Hilaire's shrug, "Flesselle was a fool, but I am sorry for poor Delaunay. Come, St. Hilaire, let us go in, the crowd is thinning out now; in a short time the streets will be passable and I must be going. I have to thank you for a most enjoyable day, marquis."
"The pleasure has been mine," replied the Marquis de St. Hilaire, bowing.
"Are you going to the duchess's to-night?" inquired the chevalier.
"No, I think not," answered St. Hilaire, putting his hand upon the window-bar. "After you, my dear chevalier," indicating the way into the salon. As he was about to step into the room the chevalier turned and took a final look at the street. The main body of the mob had passed and their shouts were heard receding in the distance; although underneath the window were still a number of persons, coming and going in restless excitement.
"I think, marquis," he said, with his curious smile, "that your friends need soap and water badly."
"They do, chevalier," said the other, returning the smile, "and the smell is sickening. Come to my bedroom; I will give you a new perfume."
That evening, after the departure of his guests, the Marquis de St. Hilaire called in his man of affairs.
"Rignot," he demanded carelessly, "have I a single estate that is unencumbered?"
"Unfortunately no, monsieur le marquis."