looked as far into me as he could, and then called the Captain,
who came without haste to the great fireplace where we were. Without any
explanation to me, or other preface, the Count repeated my disclosure to
his friend, all the time in the manner of one submitting a story to the
hearer's judgment as to its truth.

The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked at me scornfully. "It is
a fine, credible tale indeed," said he.

"If you will take the trouble to send to La Fleche, you will find that
Monsieur de Merri is really slain," said I warmly.

"Oh, no doubt," said the Captain. "But before he was slain, he had time
to take you into his confidence regarding certain things."

"Not at all. I had never seen him before that evening. It was from his
servant, after he was dead, that I learned he was coming to Montoire. If
you can find that servant, at La Fleche or Sable, he will tell you so."

"How could he have known he was wanted here?" asked the Captain of the
Count. "Your offer of a messenger was disdained."

"I knew she would contrive to send after him on her own account, if I
gave her enough liberty," returned the Count.

"It argues skill in such contrivances," said the Captain, with a
significant look.

The Count frowned in a sickly way, but not at the speaker. "Well, in any
case, the liberty will now be cut off," he said harshly. But after a
moment, he added: "And yet, if this gentleman does not lie, Monsieur de
Merri was coming here fast enough."

"To brazen it out, perhaps. There is no limit to the self-confidence of
youth. As for this gentleman, how does his story account for the
interest he takes in a certain window that looks upon the terrace?"

The Count's face darkened again, as he turned menacingly toward me.
"Yes, by heaven, I had forgotten that."

"To be frank," said I awkwardly, after a moment's hesitation, "I had
seen a pretty face there--I mean that of Mathilde." I added the last
words in haste, for the Count's look had shown for an instant that he
took me to mean that of the Countess.

"Ah! that of Mathilde," he repeated, subsiding.

"And how did you know her name was Mathilde?" asked the Captain, in a
cold, derisive tone. The Count's eyes waited for my answer.

"I--exchanged a few words with her yesterday afternoon," I replied.

"In regard to what subject?" asked the Count quickly, making a veritable
grimace in the acuteness of his suspicion.

"I paid her a compliment or two, such as