"I bow to all that," said the marquis. "It was brutal, cruel; it was
all you say. But the fact remains that it is done and that a part of
it must be undone."
"Your sense of justice does credit to a great noble like yourself.
Worldly reparation you may make, but you have wounded his heart and
soul beyond all earthly reparation."
"The worldly reparation quite satisfies me," replied the marquis,
fumbling with his lips. "As I observed, sentiment is out of the
question. Monsieur le Comte would not let me love him if I would,"
lightly. "I wish to undo as much as possible the evil I have done. If
he refuses to return to France, that is his affair, not mine. I shall
be the last to urge him. This Monsieur de Saumaise is a poet, I
understand."
"Who writes equally well with his sword."
"I should like to meet him. How long before De Leviston and
D'Hérouville will be out of hospital?"
"D'Hérouville, any day; De Leviston has a bad fever, having taken cold."
The marquis had not acquired the habit of smoking, so the governor lit
his pipe and smoked alone.
"Your Excellency, who is this handsome young priest who goes by the
name of Brother Jacques; of what family?"
"That I do not know; no one knows; not even Father Chaumonot, who is
his sponsor. The good Father picked him up somewhere in Italy and
placed him in a convent."
"Monsieur le Comte, then, is at Three Rivers?"
"Yes; and to-morrow we shall set out for him; though he may return at
any hour."
"I thank your Excellency. The Henri IV sails by next week, so I
understand. I daresay that we both shall be on it. At any rate, I
shall wait."
The door opened and Jehan, expressing as much excitement as his
weather-beaten face made possible, stood before them.
"Well?" said the marquis.
"Monsieur le Comte is returned from Three Rivers, and is about to dine
in the citadel."
"Tell a trooper that the presence of Monsieur le Chevalier is requested
here at once. Do not let the Chevalier see you," and the governor rose
and laid down his pipe. "I will leave the room at your service,
Monsieur."
"It is very kind of you." If the marquis was excited, or nervous,
there was nothing on his face to indicate it.
Jehan and the governor made their exits through opposite doors; and
Monsieur le Marquis sat alone. Several minutes passed. Once or twice
the marquis turned his attention to his wine-soaked sleeve. Steps were
heard in the corridor, but these died away in the distance. From time
to time the old man's hand wandered to his throat, as if something was
bothering him there. Time marked off a quarter of an hour. Then the
door opened, and a man entered; a man bronzed of countenance, tall, and
deep of chest. He wore the trapper's blouse and fringed leggings.
From where he stood he could not see who sat at the table.