ind dwell upon the
matter; nor gave it, indeed, a second thought until the next afternoon,
when, sitting at an open window of my lodging, I heard a voice in the
street ask where the Duchess de Beaufort had her apartment.

The voice struck a chord in my memory, and I looked out. The man who
had put the question, and who was now being directed on his way--by
Maignan, my equerry, as it chanced had his back to me, and I could see
only that he was young, shabbily dressed, and with the air of a workman
carried a small frail of tools on his shoulder. But presently, in the
act of thanking Maignan, he turned so that I saw his face, and with
that it flashed upon me in a moment who he was.

Accustomed to follow a train of thought quickly, and to act; on its
conclusion with energy, I had Maignan called and furnished with his
instructions before the man had gone twenty paces; and within the
minute I had the satisfaction of seeing the two return together. As
they passed under the window I heard my servant explaining with the
utmost naturalness that he had misunderstood the stranger, and that
this was Madame de Beaufort's; after which scarce a minute elapsed
before the door of my room opened, and he appeared ushering in young
Perrot!

Or so it seemed to me; and the start of surprise and consternation
which escaped the stranger when he first saw me confirmed me in the
impression. But a moment later I doubted; so natural was the posture
into which the man fell, and so stupid the look of inquiry which he
turned first on me and then on Maignan. As he stood before me,
shifting his feet and staring about him in vacant wonder, I began to
think that I had made a mistake; and, clearly, either I had done so or
this young man was possessed of talents and a power of controlling his
features beyond the ordinary. He unslung his tools, and saluting me
abjectly waited in silence. After a moment's thought, I asked him
peremptorily what was his errand with the Duchess de Beaufort.

"To show her a watch, your excellency," he stammered, his mouth open,
his eyes staring. I could detect no flaw in his acting.

"What are you, then?" I said.

"A clockmaker, my lord."

"Has Madame sent for you?"

"No, my lord," he stuttered, trembling.

"Do you want to sell her the watch?"

He muttered that he did; and that he meant no harm by it.

"Show it to me, then," I said curtly.

He grew red at that, and seemed for an instant not to understand.