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Doulenques, the concierge at No. 147 rue Lévert, looked at the enquirer and saw a tall, dark man with a heavy moustache, wearing a soft hat and a tightly buttoned overcoat, the collar of which was turned up to his ears. "M. Gurn is away, sir," she answered; "he has been away for some little time." "I know," said the stranger, "but still I want to go up to his rooms if you will kindly go with me."
"You understand le Dauphin is the last vessel over, and no other is expected for months, so we think all this information came over with you." When he began I instinctively thought of Levert, who set out alone for Paris just behind me. As he proceeded, the name "Yvard" again fixed my attention. The very name I had heard mentioned by one of the men the morning I left Biloxi.
He would not hear to it; I saw the color slowly leave his face; his thin lips curled back and showed his teeth, until, fearing a serious outbreak, I stepped back as if I would lay aside the foil. He pressed me close, so close indeed I could not if I would drop my guard. He touched me once or twice. "I call the bout a draw," declared Levert, who had himself observed Broussard's unusual energy.
"Nay, nothing of that kind. I journey to Paris simply for my own pleasure." Levert, who half listened at a distance knew I was going to heed his advice, though I misdoubted his motive, and again took up his pacing to and fro. "Aye, my dear Captain, but 'tis a long trip for such an errand?" "Yes, quite a long trip, but I weary of the life at Biloxi, and would amuse myself for a while in France."
My errand now consumed my entire attention, so I thought no more of my companions of the voyage, bidding them both good-night before we had yet landed. At the break of day, rumbling out of the little fishing village, I was surprised to see both Broussard and Levert astir as early as myself, each in a separate coach, traveling the same direction.
There were two young fellows whom I was many times on the point of calling to my confidence, but, thinking it wiser, kept my own counsel. Treason could ever wear a smiling front and air of frankness. Levert was a man much older than myself, of gloomy and taciturn manners, yet something there was so masterful about him men obeyed him whether they would or no.
"Broussard, you are angry now, and I'll take no heed of your heated words. But to-morrow you must make a gentleman's amends." "Tush, tush," Levert interposed, "'tis the quarrel of a child. He means nothing." Broussard said no more, but looked surly and ill pleased.
During the long idle hours of the afternoon it was his custom to banter me for a bout at swords, and Levert generally acted as our master of the lists. At first he was much my superior with the foils, for during his days with the Embassy at Madrid, and in the schools at Paris, he had learned those hundreds of showy and fancy little tricks of which we in the forests knew nothing.
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