d, indeed, as if Providence--and
Fabri and Petitot and Baudichon--had arranged to put the man in his
power _ad hoc_.

He hugged this thought to him, and grew so enamoured of it that he
wondered that he had not had the courage to seize Basterga in the
beginning. He had allowed himself to be disturbed by phantoms; there lay
the truth. He should have seen that the scholar dared not for his own
sake destroy a thing so precious, a thing by which he might, at the
worst, ransom his life. The Syndic wondered that he had not discerned
that point before: and still in sanguine humour he retired to bed, and
slept better than he had slept for weeks, ay, for months. The elixir was
his, as good as his; if he did not presently have Messer Basterga by the
nape he was much mistaken.

He had had the scholar watched and knew whither he was gone and that he
would not return before noon. At nine o'clock, therefore, the hour at
which he had directed Claude to come to him at his house, he approached
the Royaumes' door. Pluming himself on the stratagem by which twice in
the twenty-four hours he had rid himself of an inconvenient witness, he
opened the door boldly and entered.

On the hearth, cap in hand, stood not Claude, but Louis. The lad wore
the sneaking air as of one surprised in a shameful action, which such
characters wear even when innocently employed. But his actions proved
that he was not surprised. With finger on his lip, and eyes enjoining
caution, he signed to the Syndic to be silent, and with head aside set
the example of listening.

The Syndic was not the man to suffer fools gladly, and he opened his
mouth. He closed it--all but too late. All but too late, if--the thought
sent cold shivers down his back--if Basterga had returned. With an air
almost as furtive as that of the lad before him, he signed to him to
approach.

Louis crossed the room with a show of caution the more strange as the
early December sun was shining and all without was cheerful. "Has he
come back?" Blondel whispered.

"Claude?"

"Fool!" Low as the Syndic pitched his tone it expressed a world of
contempt. "No, Basterga?"

The youth shook his head, and again laying his finger to his lips
listened.

"What! He has not?" Blondel's colour returned, his eyes bulged out with
passion. What did the imbecile mean? Because he knew certain things did
he think himself privileged to play the fool? The Syndic's fingers
tingled. Another second and he had broken th