“Curse you, let me go, scum!” were the words he heard, followed by a sharp scuffle.
“Good-evening, Monsieur le Comte,” André said, with icy sarcasm, “but the scum will not let you go.”
Mont Rouge’s livid face paled at his rival’s voice. De Nérac least of all men had he expected to discover at “The Cock with the Spurs of Gold.”
“You will keep Monsieur le Comte de Mont Rouge a prisoner,” André commanded the guards who had caught the Count, “until I return, and you will answer with your heads for his safety.”
“By what right—” Mont Rouge began, savagely.
“That, Monsieur le Comte,” André interrupted, politely, “you will learn when it suits me. But to-morrow His Majesty will require to know by what right an exiled gentleman is still at Versailles,” he paused, “and why a noble of France trades under the title of ‘Lui’ with traitors in the pay of the English Government.”
It was a bold thrust, but it went home. The mingled fear and rage in Mont Rouge’s cynical eyes revealed the correctness of André’s guess.
“His Majesty,” André continued, “you will be interested to know, has returned to Versailles to take summary vengeance on all traitors.”
And as he galloped away he knew that Mont Rouge was unaware of Louis’s unexpected return. That Mont Rouge was at the inn at all showed that Onslow and his accomplice had been expected to share the results of their theft with the noble conspirators against Madame de Pompadour.