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'Leave him here! M. de Cocheforet answered, his face flushed, the pulse in his cheek beating. I had known him for a man of perfect honour before, and trusted him. But this evident earnest anxiety on behalf of his friend touched me not a little. Besides, I knew that I was treading on slippery ground: that it behoved me to be careful. 'I will do it, I said after a moment's reflection.
The leisurely mode of our departure, the absence of hurry or even haste, the men's indifference whether they were seen, or what was thought, all served to sink my spirits and deepen my sense of peril. I felt that they suspected me, that they more than half guessed the nature of my errand at Cocheforet, and that they were not minded to be bound by Mademoiselle's orders.
Thence he had come hither with the briefest delay; yet he found me here before him. He swore fearfully, his face black, his moustachios stiff with rage. 'What is this? What is it? he cried. 'Where is the man? 'What man? I said. 'This Cocheforet! he roared, carried away by his passion. 'Don't lie to me! He is here, and I will have him! 'You are too late, I said, watching him heedfully.
In particular, I augured the worst from Clon's appearance. His lean malevolent face and sunken eyes, his very dumbness chilled me. Mercy had no place there. We rode soberly, so that nearly half an hour elapsed before we gained the brow from which I had taken my first look at Cocheforet.
In the vast meshes of the Cardinal's schemes Cocheforet could be only a small fish; and to account for the face in the coach I needed a cataclysm, a catastrophe, a misfortune as far above ordinary mishaps as this man's intellect rose above the common run of minds. It was almost dark when I crossed the bridges, and crept despondently to the Rue Savonnerie.
Then I pointed to M. de Cocheforet. 'Do you love him? I said hoarsely, roughly. The gibing tone had passed from her voice to mine. She did not answer. 'Because if you do you will let me tell my tale. Say no, but once more, Mademoiselle I am only human and I go. And you will repent it all your life. I had done better had I taken that tone from the beginning.
Doubtless Madame de Cocheforet had dropped it in the night. I turned it over and over; and then I put it in my pouch with a smile, thinking that it might be useful sometime, and in some way. I had scarcely done this, and turned with the intention of exploring the street, when the door behind me creaked on its leather hinges, and in a moment the host stood at my elbow, and gave me a surly greeting.
I stepped out into the darkness, just as the Lieutenant, after posting his men round the hollow, slid down with a couple of sergeants to make the arrest. The place round the open door was pitch-dark. He had not espied my man, who had lodged himself in the deepest shadow of the hut, and when he saw me come out across the light he took me for Cocheforet.
But I was glad to accept it, for it enabled me to be alone and to think out the position unwatched. Of course M. de Cocheforet was at the Chateau. He had left his horse here, and gone up on foot; probably that was his usual plan. He was therefore within my reach, in one sense I could not have come at a better time but in another he was as much beyond it as if I were still in Paris.
Somewhere in the black wood behind us probably in the outskirts of the village lurked M. de Cocheforet. In the great house before us, outlined by a score of lighted windows, were the soldiers come from Auch to take him.
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