t M. Beauchamp was absent on a special
mission for the Duke. He had gone, it was believed, to Vancey, and
might not return for a week. However, the instant he returned the
letter should be given him.

This was far from pleasant news. What should I do now? My first idea
was to explain matters to the innkeeper, but would he believe the
story? Maubranne had already accused me of being a spy, and if any of
the people at the inn entertained the same notion I felt it would be
the worse for me. Besides, a week was not long, and Raoul might return
even sooner. "He will either come or send at once," I thought, "and
not much harm can happen in a few days."

As a matter of fact I was afraid to trust the innkeeper with my story.
It would have been of little consequence in ordinary times, but just
then one could hardly tell friend from foe.

Three days slipped by pleasantly enough. Each evening I wandered into
the streets of the city, looking with interest at the crowds of people,
the splendid buildings, the gaily-dressed roysterers, the troops of
Guards in their rich uniforms, the gorgeous equipages of the ladies,
and the thousand strange sights that Paris presented to a provincial.

At first I found it rather difficult to make my way back to the inn,
but by careful observation I gradually acquired a knowledge of the
district.

Once I summoned courage to accost a soldier of the Guards, and to
inquire if M. Belloc had returned from his journey.

Looking rather contemptuously at my rusty dress, he answered, "Do you
mean M. Belloc of the Cardinal's household?"

"The same," I said.

"I am sorry, monsieur, but he is still out of Paris, or at least he is
supposed to be, which amounts to the same thing. But if you wish
particularly to see him, why not seek audience of the Cardinal?"

"Thanks, my friend; I had not thought of that."

The soldier smiled, nodded, and went on his way, humming an air as if
well-pleased with himself.

"Seek audience of the Cardinal?" The bare idea froze up my courage; I
would as soon have entered a den of lions!

"No, no," I thought, "better to wait for Raoul."

During this time no message had come from him, but on the fourth
evening, as I was setting out for my usual promenade, a servant
announced a messenger with an urgent letter.

"Show him up," I cried briskly, anxious to learn the nature of my
comrade's communication, and hoping it would foretell his speedy
arrival.

The messen