ger's appearance rather surprised me, but I was too full of
Raoul to pay much attention to his servant. Still, I noticed he was a
small, weazened, mean-looking fellow, quite a dwarf, in fact, with
sharp, keen eyes and a general air of cunning.

"You have a letter for me?" said I, stretching out my hand.

"Monsieur de Lalande?" he asked questioningly, with just the slightest
possible tinge of suspicion, and I nodded.

"It is to be hoped that no one saw you come in here, monsieur!"

"Waste no more words, but give me the letter; it may be important."

"It is," he answered, "of the utmost importance, and my master wishes
it to be read without delay."

"He has kept me waiting longer than was agreeable," I remarked, taking
the note and breaking the seal.

The letter was neither signed nor addressed, and my face must have
shown surprise at the contents, as, looking up suddenly, I found the
messenger watching me with undisguised alarm. Springing across the
room I fastened the door, and, picking up a pistol, said quietly,
"Raise your voice above a whisper and I fire! Now attend to me. Do
you know what is in this note?"

"No!" he answered boldly.

"That is false," I said, still speaking quietly, "and will do you no
good. Tell me what is in it."

"Has not monsieur learned to read?" he asked in such a matter-of-fact
manner that I burst out laughing.

"You are a brave little man, and when you see your master tell him I
said so."

"What name shall I give him, monsieur?"

"Name, you rascal? Why, my own, De Lalande! Now sit there and don't
stir, while I read this again."

It was a queer communication, and only the fact of my chance meeting
with the youngster in the Rue de Roi gave me anything like a clue as to
its meaning.

This was what I read.

"I have sent to the inn, in case my mounted messenger should fail to
stop you on the road. The plan will go on, _but without us_. We move
only when success is certain. Make your arrangements accordingly. Our
friends will be annoyed, but they can hardly draw back. I leave you to
supply a reason for your absence. A broken leg or a slight attack of
fever might be serviceable. Destroy this."

Plainly the note did not come from Raoul, nor was it intended for me.

What did it mean? That there was a conspiracy on foot I grasped at
once, as also that my cousin was one of the prominent actors. But
what, and against whom? and why was I, or rather Henri, to draw bac