"To whom do you impart this information ?" "To your friend, Monsieur de Marsac," he answered, and through his mask of humility the sneer was again growing apparent.

"He will be here tomorrow," he repeated.
Marsac was that friend of Lesperon's to whose warm commendation of the Gascon rebel I owed the courtesy and kindness that the Vicomte de Lavedan had meted out to me since my coming.
Is it wonderful that I stood as if frozen, my wits refusing to work and my countenance wearing, I doubt not, a very stricken look?
Here was one coming to Lavedan who knew Lesperon--one who would unmask me and say that I was an impostor.

What would happen then?
A spy they would of a certainty account me, and that they would make short work of me I never doubted.

But that was something that troubled me less than the opinion Mademoiselle must form.

How would she interpret what I had said that day?
In what light would she view me hereafter?
Such questions sped like swift arrows through my mind, and in their train came a dull anger with myself that I had not told her everything that afternoon.