The Duke had not stirred.
“I am at your orders, Albert; only I think you
will have to arm yourself with patience for several
hours longer. This fete, given by the Duchess,
cannot be prevented by our quarrel. I suggest
that you postpone our meeting until to-morrow evening.
Our witnesses can meet if you like at one o’clock
at the little Inn of the ‘Three Roads.’
It is only ten minutes distance from here. The
innkeeper is loyal to me, I am his daughter’s
godfather. The garden is cut by a long alley which
can serve as the field of honour. I will go at
once to warn De Montagnac and his brother; then I
will go to the ‘Three Roads.’”
“Good,” said Albert.
“Naturally, we leave Maurice Renaud out of our
quarrel.”
“Certainly,” said Charles de Morlay bowing.
They parted. From a distance the young painter
saw the Duke enter the great hall. Several minutes
later Albert’s tall form barred the horizon
for a moment. He looked at the Tower of Saint
Genevieve, then he also entered the hall. Then
Maurice decided to go in himself. He sat down
by a little table littered with magazines and periodicals,
and picked up one, without ceasing for an instant to
watch the two men. The Duke de Morlay was standing
behind the Marquis, who was still at the whist table.
Albert Styvens had sat down beside a diplomat from
Italy, Cesar Gabrielli, a serious young man, a clever
diplomat, and a renowned fencer. When Montagnac
finished his hand, the Duke offered him a cigar.
“Will you help me with some arrangements for
the performance to-morrow?”
He was about to refuse, but the Duke said briefly,
“It is important, come!”
The two of them went out, only lingering a little
on the way for a joke with the men and a compliment
to the ladies. Then Maurice watched the diplomat,
who rose at the same time, and invited Albert to admire
the moon from the terrace. Maurice saw them disappearing
towards the corner by the Chinese umbrella. That
was the end of the terrace, and was out of sight from
all the windows.
“It is all plain enough,” thought the
young man, “but when, where?”
He understood that neither of the two adversaries
could take him either for confidant or for second.
“However,” he said, as he went to his
room. “I want to know. I must know.
I will know.”
The next day, the day of the fete, all the Chateau,
from early in the morning, was in a violent tumult.
Maurice, the Marquis Assistant, and Jean Perliez were
busy to the point of distraction; fortunately for
Maurice, who had been unable to sleep and had called
Jean at six to share the secret which had not been
confided to him. He could not think of telling
Genevieve, and Jean should be able to help keep watch.
“You try,” he directed, “to watch
Montagnac; I shall not leave the diplomat.”
