k a brace of pistols. Any idea of doing
violence on the person of M. Peyrot we dismissed for the present.

Our eyes travelled from his pistols over the rest of him. He was small,
lean, and wiry, with dark, sharp face and deep-set twinkling eyes. One
moment's glance gave us to know that Peyrot was no fool.

My lord closed the door after him and went straight to the point.

"M. Peyrot, you were engaged last night in an attack on the Duke of St.
Quentin. You did not succeed in slaying him, but you did kill his man,
and you took from him a packet. I come to buy it."

He looked at us a little dazed, not understanding, I deem, how we knew
this. Certes, it had been too dark in the lane for his face to be seen,
and he had doubtless made sure that he was not followed home. He said
directly:

"You are the Comte de Mar."

"Even so, M. Peyrot. I did not care to have the whole stair know it, but
to you I have no hesitation in confiding that I am M. de Mar."

M. Peyrot swept a bow till his head almost touched the floor.

"My poor apartment is honoured."

As he louted low, I made a spring forward; I thought to pin him before
he could rise. But he was up with the lightness of a bird from the bough
and standing three yards away from me, where I crouched on the spring
like a foiled cat. He grinned at me in open enjoyment.

"Monsieur desired?" he asked sympathetically.

"No, it is I who desire," said M. Etienne, clearing himself a place to
sit on the corner of the table. "I desire that packet, monsieur. You
know this little expedition of yours to-night was something of a
failure. When you report to the general-duke, he will not be in the best
of humours. He does not like failures, the general; he will not incline
to reward you dear. While I am in the very best humour in the world."

He smiled to prove it. Nor do I think his complaisance altogether
feigned. The temper of our host amused him.

As for friend Peyrot, he still looked dazed. I thought it was because he
had not yet made up his mind what line to take; but had I viewed him
with neutral eyes I might easily have deemed his bewilderment genuine.

"Perhaps we should get on better if I could understand what monsieur is
driving at?" he suggested. "Monsieur's remarks about his noble father
and the general-duke are interesting, but humble Jean Peyrot, who does
not move in court circles, is at a loss to translate them. In other
words, I have no notion what you are talking ab