"Major," interposed Brother Jacques, "leave Monsieur le Vicomte to me.
There will be no duel between these two gentlemen. I will arrange the
affair. Unless Monsieur le Chevalier desires to apologize."
"Nothing of the kind!" replied the Chevalier harshly.
"Release my wrists, sneaking priest!"
Brother Jacques nodded toward the Chevalier to signify that he would
depend upon his own offices. "Monsieur le Vicomte, listen to me. Will
you follow me to your cabin?"
"You?"
"Even so. I have something to say to you."
"Well, I have nothing to say to you. Will you let go of my wrists?"
Brother Jacques lost none of his blandness. "I have only a single
question to ask of you. I will first whisper it. If that does not
convince you, I will ask it aloud. There are those here who will
understand its value." He leaned toward the angry man and whispered a
dozen words into his ear, then drew back, still holding the straining
wrists.
The vicomte looked steadily into the priest's eyes. There was
something lurking in his gaze which would have caused many a brave man
to lower his eyes, But there was a vein of fine metal in this priest's
composition; and the vicomte's glance broke harmlessly.
"Stare as long and as hard as you please, Monsieur. Shall I ask this
question before all these men?"
"I will accompany you." The vicomte had suddenly recovered all his
mental balance.
Brother Jacques released his wrists, took up a lighted candle; and the
two of them left the room, followed by wondering glances, not the least
of these being the Chevalier's, who was at loss to explain the
vicomte's sudden docility. The priest and the vicomte soon entered the
latter's cabin, and the former placed the candle on the table.
"Yes, Monsieur le Vicomte, where were you on the night of the
nineteenth of last February?"
"What is that to you?"
"To me? Nothing. To you? Everything."
"That is a curious question."
"It had power enough to bring you here with me," replied Brother
Jacques complacently.
"Why do you wish to know?"
"I saw you," briefly.
"A great many persons saw me that night. I was on guard at the Louvre."
"Between the hours of eleven and twelve?"
Silence. A spider, seeing the light, swung down in jerks from the
beams and dangled at the side of the candlestick. Suddenly the priest
reached over and caught the vicomte's restless hand.
"Rest assured, Jesuit, that when you broke my sword you left me
weaponless."
"I did well to break that sword. It was an evil one."
"You are very strong for a priest," coolly.
"Oh, do not doubt that there is a man within these robes. Listen.
Your path and that of the Chevalier du Cévennes must not cross again."