"Messieurs," said Breton, "your eyes deceived you. The horizon is
clear. But take care, or you will have monsieur's clothes from the
hooks."
"Tell your master," said the vicomte, "that we shall pay him a visit
later, when he wakes." He opened the door, and followed D'Hérouville
out.
Once outside the two men gazed into each other's eyes. Each sought to
discover something that lay behind.
"The cloak!" D'Hérouville ran his fingers through his beard. "The
Chevalier has never searched the pockets."
"Let us lay the matter before him and acquaint him with our
suspicions," said the vicomte, his eyes burning. "His comrade's danger
is common to both of us. We will ask the Chevalier for his word, and
he will never break it."
"No! a thousand devils, no! Place my neck under his heel? Not I."
"You have some plan?"
"Beaufort offers five thousand livres for that paper, and Gaston will
give five thousand more to have proof that it is destroyed. That is
ten thousand, Monsieur."
"Handsome!"
"And I offer to share with you."
"You do not need money, Monsieur."
"I? The Jews have me tied in a thousand knots!" replied the count,
bitterly.
"I am not the least inclined toward partnership. You must manoeuver to
reach the inside of that cloak before I do. There is nothing more to
be said, Monsieur."
"Take care!" menacingly.
"Faith! Monsieur," the vicomte said, coolly, "my sword is quite as
long as yours. And there is the Chevalier. You must fight him first."
"And if you find the paper?" forcing a calm into his tones.
"I shall take the next ship back to France. I will see Beaufort and
Gaston, and the bubble will be pricked."
"Perhaps you may never return."
"As to that, we shall see. Come, is there not something more than ten
thousand livres behind that paper?"
"You banter. I do not understand."
"Is not madame's name there?"
"Well?"
"She is a widow, young, beautiful, and rich. And this incriminating
signature of hers,--what a fine thing it would be to hold over her
head! She is a woman, and a woman is easily duped in all things save
love."
D'Hérouville trembled. "You are forcing war."
"So be it," tranquilly. "I will make one compact with you; if I find
the paper I will inform you. Will you accept a like?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now, then, once in Paris, I will stake ten thousand livres
against your tentative claims to madame's hand. We will play at
vingt-et-un. That is true gambling, Monsieur, and you are a good
judge."
"I pick up the gauntlet with pleasure, under all conditions. Besides,
an idea has occurred to me. The paper may not be what we think it is.
The man who killed De Brissac is not one to give up or throw away the
rewards. Eh, Monsieur?"