ings
at the inn at Montoire, in case I should ever wish to make a stealthy
departure from the chateau; so I replied:

"I thank you, Monsieur; but there is nothing I have urgent need for, or
of such great value that I would keep it near."

"As you please," said the Count, observing me keenly with his
half-ambushed eyes.

The man who had escorted us to the chateau was sent to fetch Monsieur de
Pepicot's baggage; and would have brought his horse also, but that
Monsieur de Pepicot mildly but firmly insisted otherwise and despatched
orders for its care in his absence. The baggage consisted of a somewhat
sorry looking portmanteau, which was taken to our chamber. We then had
supper, during which the Count and my long-nosed friend talked of chess
play, while Captain Ferragant ate in frowning silence, now and then
casting no very tolerant glances at us two visitors. I would have tried
by conversation to gain some closer knowledge of this man, but I saw
there was no getting him to talk while that mood lasted. After supper
the Count and the Captain sat over their wine in a manner which showed a
long drinking bout to be their regular evening custom. Monsieur de
Pepicot and I accompanied them as far as our position as guests
required. We then plead the fatigue of recent travel, and were shown to
our room, in which an additional bed had been placed. The Count was by
this time sufficiently forward in his devotions to Bacchus to dispense
easily with such dull company as ours, and the Captain, by the free
breath he drew as we rose to go, showed his relief at our departure.

When the servant had placed our candles and left us alone, I expressed a
wonder why so great a house could not afford us a room apiece.

"It is very simple," said the long-nosed man, opening his portmanteau.
"If they should take a fancy to make caged birds of us, it's easier
tending one cage than two."

I went to bed wondering what the morrow had in store. I saw now clearly
that I might accomplish something by informing the Count that Monsieur
de Merri was dead and that he was on his way to Lavardin when I met him.
His failure to appear could not then be held as evidence of guilt: his
intention to come might count much in the Countess's favour.

As my head sank into the pillow, there came suddenly to my mind the
second of the three maxims Blaise Tripault had learned from the monk:

"_Never sleep in a house where the master is old and the wife young._"