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Updated: September 9, 2025
Would you have suspected it, Monsieur?" he demanded piteously. "I had no thought of it. But this Peyrot it may not yet be too late " "I will go back," M. Étienne cried, darting to the door. But Monsieur laid forcible hands on him. "Not you, Étienne. You were hurt yesterday; you have not closed your eyes for twenty-four hours. I don't want a dead son.
Shall I take the house into our confidence?" "The house knows as much of your meaning as I. See here, friend of Bernet, if you are that gentleman's mate, perhaps you have a password about you." "Aye," said M. Étienne, readily. "This is it: twenty pistoles." No answer came immediately; I could guess Peyrot puzzled. Presently he called to us: "By the bones of St.
The scamp rose with a bow. "Well, I have not the word of a gentleman to offer you, but I give you the opinion of Jean Peyrot, sometime Father Ambrosius, that he and the packet will be there. This has been a delightful call, monsieur, and I am loath to let you go. But it is time I was free to look for that packet." M. Étienne's eyes went over to the chest.
Vigo went straight on horseback to the Bonne Femme, but Peyrot had vanished. So he galloped round to the Rue Tournelles, whither he had sent two of our men before him, but the bird was flown.
On the instant he recognized its owner. "Good morning, Peyrot. We've recovered the packet." Not waiting for further amenities, I seized my lord and dashed him into the front room, only a faint hope to lead me, but the oaths of the bravos a good spur. And, St. Quentin be thanked, there in the garret window were Jacques and his tapsters, pushing a ladder to us. "Go, monsieur!
I will look about a bit this morning among my friends and see if I can get wind of your packet. I will meet you at dinner-time at the inn of the Bonne Femme." "Dinner-time is far hence. You forget, M. Peyrot, that you are risen earlier than usual. I will go out and sit on the stair for five minutes while you consult your friends." Peyrot grinned cheerfully.
Did he mean to brain me he would scarce have set that place." "It was not Peyrot alone I meant. But monsieur is so well known. In the streets, or at the dinner-hour, some one may see you who knows Mayenne is after you." "Oh, of that I must take my chance," he made answer, no whit troubled by the warning.
But though he laughed, he stood still. "If you make a movement I do not like, M. de Mar, I will shoot you as I would a rat. Your side is down and mine is up; I have no fear to kill you. It will be painful to me, but if necessary I shall do it." M. Étienne sat down on the chest and smiled more amiably than ever. "Why have I never known you before, Peyrot?" "One moment, monsieur."
Peyrot cried hospitably, running to fill a goblet muddy with his last pouring. But M. Étienne drew back. "Well, I don't blame you. I wouldn't drink it myself if I were a count," Peyrot said, setting the draught to his own lips. "After this noon I shall drink it no more all summer. I shall live like a king. Kiss me, Folly; hug me, Mirth: Life without you's nothing worth!
Its narrow door was inhospitably shut, but at our summons the concierge appeared to inform us that M. Peyrot did truly live here and, moreover, was at home, having arrived but half an hour earlier than we. He would go up and find out whether monsieur could see us. But M. Étienne thought that formality unnecessary, and was able, at small expense, to convince the concierge of it.
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