"I should suspect de Proballe, were it not that he knows all my supposed unsavoury history as the real de Cobalt."
"He has no suspicion that you are not?"
"Not that I can think."
"Then it must be the girl who questioned me and said I was no servant—Mdlle. de Boisdegarde," suggested Pascal, with a shrewd nod of the head. "I mind me now. Are you supposed to have done some ugly thing at Cambrai? She questioned me on the point."
"Yes, a something which de Proballe spells murder, and for which I am to be pardoned."
"A thousand devils! I gave her my word of honour you had never been there, except as we passed through the place on our way here."
"How can she have got wind of it?" and Gerard pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Wait, wait. I see. De Proballe told me this good fellow Denys had his suspicions. He has told her. Phew!" he whistled. "The plot thickens."
"It's thick enough already to be a very devil's pie of complication," laughed Pascal. "I suppose, as usual you will listen to no counsel of prudence."
"Prudence, from Pascal de la Tour?" and Gerard laughed in his turn.
"Nay, for myself I care nothing. Let come what may it's all welcome, so long as there be but some fun in it. But your life is valuable. Would it not be wise to give up this de Cobalt business, leave Morvaix, and return as yourself with the troops from Cambrai?"
Gerard thought a moment, and then with another smile answered—
"You have seen for yourself how a certain matter stands. Were you in my place, would you act on your own counsel?"
"Not I, on my soul. If there are two ways to an end,
