actually raised the latch, and was drawing the door to him with infinite precaution, when Tavannes’ voice struck him, as it were, in the face.
“Pray do not admit the draught, M. de Tignonville,” he said, without looking round. “In your cowl you do not feel it, but it is otherwise with me.”
The unfortunate Tignonville stood transfixed, glaring at the back of the other’s head. For an instant he could not find his voice. At last—
“Curse you!” he hissed in a transport of rage. “Curse you! You did know, then? And she was right.”
“If you mean that I expected you, to be sure, Monsieur,” Count Hannibal answered. “See, your place is laid. You will not feel the air from without there. The very becoming dress which you have adopted secures you from cold. But—do you not find it somewhat oppressive this summer weather?”
“Curse you!” the young man cried, trembling.
Tavannes turned and looked at him with a dark smile. “The curse may fall,” he said, “but I fancy it will not be in consequence of your petitions, Monsieur. And now, were it not better you played the man?”
“If I were armed,” the other cried passionately, “you would not insult me!”
“Sit down, sir, sit down,” Count Hannibal answered sternly. “We will talk of that presently. In the mean time I have something to say to you. Will you not eat?”
But Tignonville would not.
“Very well,” Count Hannibal answered; and he went on with his supper. “I am indifferent whether you eat or not. It is enough for me that you are one of the two things I lacked an hour ago; and that I have you, M. de Tignonville. And through you I look to obtain the other.”
“What other?” Tignonville cried.
“A minister,” Tavannes answered, smiling. “A minister.
