"What a revenge!" Twice, three times, and yet again he drank of the secret.

That he of all men should make this discovery! His danger became as nothing; he forgot even the object of his thieving visit.
"Well, Monsieur ?" said a cold, dry voice from the threshold.
The man in the grey cloak leaped to his feet, thrusting the letter into the pocket along with the cabal.

His long rapier snarled from its scabbard, just in time.

The two blades hung in mid air.
"Nicely caught," said the cold, dry voice again.

"What have you to say?
It is hanging, Monsieur, hanging by the neck." The speaker was a man of sixty, white of hair, but wiry and active.