At the moment of his departure he desired me to deliver
this letter to you, and then rode away in a fury, and, seemingly,
not on the best of terms with Monsieur le Vicomte."
"And his sister?" I asked quickly.
"She went with him. A fine pair, as I live!" he added, casting
his eyes to the ceiling.
At least I could breathe freely. They were gone, and whatever
damage they may have done to the character of poor Rene de Lesperon
ere they departed, they were not there, at all events, to denounce
me for an impostor. With a mental apology to the shade of the
departed Lesperon for all the discredit I was bringing down upon
his name, I broke the seal of that momentous epistle, which enclosed
a length of some thirty-two inches of string.
Monsieur [I read], wherever I may chance to meet you it shall be my
duty to kill you.
A rich beginning, in all faith! If he could but maintain that
uncompromising dramatic flavour to the end, his epistle should be
worth the trouble of deciphering, for he penned a vile scrawl of
pothooks.
It is because of this [the letter proceeded] that I have refrained
from coming face to face with you this morning. The times are too
troublous and the province is in too dangerous a condition to admit
of an act that might draw the eyes of the Keeper of the Seals upon
Lavedan. To my respect, then, to Monsieur le Vicomte and to my own
devotion to the Cause we mutually serve do you owe it that you still
live.
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