“I learned yesterday you were in Paris,” he remarked, “and have been watching for you.  Did your friend send you my note?”

“Yes, but it was difficult to answer.  Your first messenger was killed; your second was a traitor.  That is why I did not meet you at Poictiers.”

“My second messenger!” he exclaimed in a tone of surprise.  “Poictiers!  Either you or I must be dreaming!  I sent but one man, and he vanished.  Why should you expect to meet me at Poictiers?”

“At your own invitation!” I replied.

“But, monsieur, this is a puzzle!  I do not understand; it is beyond me.”

“Perhaps,” I remarked drily, “you have forgotten Casimir!”

At that he drew a long breath.  “Casimir!” he exclaimed; “ah, that lets in a little light.  Monsieur, will you tell me the story?  We shall get at something surprising.”

He listened attentively while I related what had happened, and then “Truly,” he said, “this Cordel is a clever rogue, and Casimir an able tool.  I have found him useful myself before now.”

“He cheated you to some purpose in the end,” I remarked.

“But he did not cheat me at all; I had nothing to do with him.  Listen, and judge for yourself.  I discovered that the lawyer had bargained with four men, one of whom was this very Casimir, to take your life.  The murder was to be done in such a manner that no suspicion should attach to him, and the first thing was to get you away from Le Blanc.”

“In that at least,” said I laughing, “they succeeded.”

“I wrote a letter warning you of this, and describing the four men, and despatched it by the hand of a trusty messenger.”

“He was worthy of your trust,” I said.

“The second letter asking you to meet me at Poictiers was not written by me.”

“Then who was the writer?” I asked.

“It would be difficult to prove, but I should say it was Etienne Cordel.  Several little matters convinced me he had heard of my flying visit to Le Blanc.  That put him on his guard, and unfortunately my messenger was known to Casimir and his companions.”

“Do you think they tracked him?”

“Waylaid him in the wood, abstracted the letter, and carried it to the lawyer.  It was easy for him to imitate my writing, and the signature of D’Angely would disarm suspicion.”

“Your explanation certainly seems reasonable,” I remarked.

“And I believe it to be true.  And now, take my advice and be very cautious.  Men are cheap in Paris, and Cordel will stick at nothing.  If I can help you against him, you may be sure I will.”

I thanked him warmly, and proceeded to the hotel.

“Jacques will be glad to know that gratitude is not altogether dead in the world,” I said to myself.

CHAPTER XXIII

A Royal Marriage

I should probably have worried myself considerably over the strange story related by Renaud L’Estang, but for the public events which occurred almost immediately.  On the very next morning we received orders from the Admiral to be prepared to escort Henry of Navarre into the capital.