d'Herouville with disapproval.

The vicomte stared at the wan face on the pillow. He shrugged his
shoulders, and there was an essence of pity in the movement. Meanwhile
the count gazed with idle curiosity at the partitions. He saw the
Chevalier's court rapier with its jeweled hilt. The Chevalier's
grandsire had flaunted the slender blade under the great Constable's
nose in the days of Henri II. There had been a time when he himself
had worn a rapier even more valuable; but the Jews had swallowed it
even as the gaming tables had swallowed his patrimony. Next he
fingered the long campaign rapier, and looked away as if trying to
penetrate the future. A sharp gasp slipped past his lips.

"Boy," he said lowly and with apparent calm, "was not that a ship
passing?"

Breton looked out of the port-hole. As he did so the count grasped the
vicomte's arm. The vicomte turned quickly, and for the first time his
eyes encountered the grey cloak. His breath came sharply, while his
hand stretched forth mechanically and touched the garment, sinister and
repelling though it was. There followed his touch a crackling sound,
as of paper. D'Herouville paled. On the contrary, the vicomte smiled.

"Messieurs," said Breton, "your eyes deceived you. The horizon is
clear. But take care, or you will have monsieur's clothes from the
hooks."

"Tell your master," said the vicomte, "that we shall pay him a visit
later, when he wakes." He opened the door, and followed D'Herouville
out.

Once outside the two men gazed into each other's eyes. Each sought to
discover something that lay behind.

"The cloak!" D'Herouville ran his fingers through his beard. "The
Chevalier has never searched the pockets."

"Let us lay the matter before him and acquaint him with our
suspicions," said the vicomte, his eyes burning. "His comrade's danger
is common to both of us. We will ask the Chevalier for his word, and
he will never break it."

"No! a thousand devils, no! Place my neck under his heel? Not I."

"You have some plan?"

"Beaufort offers five thousand livres for that paper, and Gaston will
give five thousand more to have proof that it is destroyed. That is
ten thousand, Monsieur."

"Handsome!"

"And I offer to share with you."

"You do not need money, Monsieur."

"I? The Jews have me tied in a thousand knots!" replied the count,
bitterly.

"I am not the least inclined toward partnership. You must manoeuver to
reach t