I
supposed--shaking off the momentary impression--that what I saw
was innocent and normal. Besides, I was thinking what I should
say to Pavannes when I saw him---in what terms I should warn him
of his peril, and cast his perfidy in his teeth. We had hurried
along in this way--and in absolute silence, save when some
obstacle or pitfall drew from us an exclamation--for about a
quarter of a mile, when my companion, turning into a slightly
wider street, slackened her speed, and indicated by a gesture
that we had arrived. A lamp hung over the porch, to which she
pointed, and showed the small side gate half open. We were close
behind the other three now. I saw Croisette stoop to enter and
as quickly fall back a pace. Why?
In a moment it flashed across my mind that we were too late that
the Vidame had been before us.
And yet how quiet it all was.
Then I breathed freely again. I saw that Croisette had only
stepped back to avoid some one who was coming out--the Coadjutor
in fact. The moment the entrance was clear, the lad shot in, and
the others after him, the priest taking no notice of them, nor
they of him.
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