was breaking no
confidence, and, after all, it was necessary to protect one's own
friends. My plan was soon formed. I walked along the narrow street,
waited five minutes at the farther end, and returned cautiously to a
dingy cabaret, from which a good view of the house could be obtained.
"Now," thought I, "unless my wits are wool-gathering, I am about to
behold a miracle. I am going to see two men leave a place which they
did not enter. Surely this Martin is something more than an
astrologer?"
For nearly an hour I remained with my eyes fixed on the door, which,
however, remained closed, and I began to feel a trifle discouraged.
What if I had discovered a mare's nest? The important letter was still
in my pocket, and Mazarin would be none too pleased at the delay.
Perhaps it would be best to abandon the enterprise and to return at
once.
I had almost resolved on this plan when two men strolled past the inn.
Filled with amazement, I rose quickly, and went into the street. The
door of the astrologer's house was shut; in truth it had not been
opened, yet here were my mysterious strangers several yards in front of
me! Rubbing my eyes, I wondered if I had made a second blunder! But
that was impossible, and the idea not worth considering. While I stood
thus, dazed and half-stupefied by the strangeness of the affair, the
men had walked half-way along the street.
Paris was now fully awake, the shops were open, people were hurrying to
their daily tasks, and the number of persons abroad made it difficult
to keep sight of my quarry. Several times the men stopped, and glanced
behind, as if afraid of being followed, but they did not notice me,
and, after a long roundabout journey, we all reached the Rue St.
Dominique.
Here the strangers, evidently concluding that caution was no longer
necessary, pushed back their hats and drew their cloaks from their
faces. It was as I had suspected from the first--the tall man was my
cousin Henri, but his companion was unknown to me. Taking a good look,
in order to describe him to Mazarin, I found him to be a short, dark
man, with an ugly face, but beautiful white teeth. His eyes were beady
and restless, he was bandy-legged, and walked with a peculiarly awkward
gait.
Half-way along the street the two stopped outside a handsome building,
conversed earnestly together for several minutes, and then, ascending
the steps, disappeared.
"Pouf!" I exclaimed. "What can that little
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