“If this is how things have gone, you may be sure that the king will not view, with satisfaction, the man who has interfered with his favourite’s plan for mending his fortunes.”

Desmond shrugged his shoulders.

“The king’s dissatisfaction would matter very little to me,” he said, “especially as he could not openly manifest it, without making it apparent that he had approved of the scheme.”

“It is not such a trifle as you think, Kennedy.  Lettres de cachet are not difficult to obtain, by powerful members of the court; especially when the person named is a young regimental officer, whose disappearance would excite no comment or curiosity, save among the officers of his own regiment.  The man who carried off Mademoiselle Pointdexter must be a bold fellow, and is likely to be a vindictive one.  No doubt, his object was to keep the young lady a prisoner, until she agreed to marry him, and the loss of a pretty bride with a splendid fortune is no trifling one, and likely to be bitterly resented.  Whether that resentment will take the form of obtaining an order for your confinement in the Bastille, or other royal prison, or of getting you put out of the way by a stab in the back, I am unable to say, but in any case, I should advise you strongly to give up your fancy for wandering about after dark; and when you do go out, keep in the frequented portions of the town.

“Jack Farquharson, who was at Versailles with the colonel last week, was speaking of Mademoiselle Pointdexter, and said that she was charming.  Did you find her so?”

“I thought nothing about it, one way or the other,” Desmond said, carelessly.  “I only saw her face by torchlight, and she was, of course, agitated by what had happened; and indeed, as I was busy helping Mike to yoke the horses to the carriage, I had scarcely time to look at her.  When we reached Versailles it was barely daylight.  I handed her out of the carriage, and left her to enter by herself, as I thought it was better that she should meet her father alone.  I do not think that I should recognize her, were I to meet her in the street.”

“Most insensible youth!” O’Sullivan said, with a laugh; “insensible and discreet to a point that, were it not assured, none would believe that you had Irish blood in your veins.  And so, you say you are going over to Versailles tomorrow?”

“Yes.  I left a message with the servant who opened the door, to that effect.  Of course, I shall be glad to know if the baron intends to take any steps against his daughter’s abductor, or whether he thinks it best not to add to the scandal by stirring up matters, but to take her away at once to his estates.”

“He is in a difficult position,” O’Neil said gravely.  “The young lady has been missing for a fortnight.  No one knows whether she went of her own free will, or against it.  Were her father to carry her off, quietly, it would excite the worst suspicions.  Better by far lodge his complaint before the king, proclaim his grievances loudly everywhere, and tell the story in all its details.  Whichever course he takes, evil-minded people will think the worse; but of the two evils, the latter seems to me to be the lesser.”