It was that of De Berquin.
I ran to the gate and heard him tell Maugert, who covered him with an
arquebus, match lighted, that he was seeking the abode of the Sieur de la
Tournoire, for whom he had important news.
"Let him come, Maugert!" I called from the gate.
I stepped back into the courtyard. At that moment Blaise came out of the
chateau. Very soon De Berquin strode in through the gateway, followed by
the burly Barbemouche. Both looked wayworn and fatigued.
"Monsieur de la Tournoire," said De Berquin, saluting me with fine grace
and a pleasant air,--he never lost the ways of a gallant gentleman,--"I
have come here to do you a service."
So! thought I, does he really intend to seek my confidence and try to
betray me, after all? Admirable self-assurance!
I was about to answer, when Barbemouche put in;
"So you, whom it was in my power to kill a hundred times over that night,
are the very Tournoire whom I chased from one end of France to the other
eight years ago?" And he looked me over with a frank curiosity.
"Yes," I said, with a smile, "after you had destroyed the home of my
fathers. And at last you have found me."
"I was but the servant of the Duke of Guise then," said Barbemouche.
At this point Blaise, who, in all our experiences with De Berquin and his
henchmen, had not while sober come within hearing of Barbemouche's voice,
or within close sight of him, stepped up and said, coolly:
"Let me see the face that goes with that voice.
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