"Le Dédaigneux!" Humphrey said to himself. "Le Dédaigneux. Some man, some great one masquerading under a sobriquet, a nom de guerre! Who can it be but one! Who but the one whose proud family motto almost speaks of their disdain for even kings; whose own life bespeaks his scorn for all who are not of his blood; who looks down on other men as other men look down on the insects crawling in their path! Who can it be but he? Yet--does he lead these conspirators or is he led by them? Is he their chief or cat's-paw? I must know that."

"Listen," he heard Van den Enden saying now. "Briefly, all that is devised is as follows."

"Those men, that money, and the Dutch Fleet are in our hands, at our service," Van den Enden continued next; "the moment that your Normandy is prepared to rise against this tyrant whose tyranny is greater than was the tyranny of Richelieu, of Mazarin, or of both combined. If your chiefs, your great noblesse, your merchants of Rouen, Havre and other cities--all groaning under this tyrant's unjust taxation of them, specially for his wars; all hating his wantons, his mad extravagance and love of splendour--are ready to rise and form themselves into a Republic which shall at last be a Republic formed of the whole of France, then the Spaniards and Hollanders are ready to play their part."

"Republics have heads, dictators, rulers, as well as monarchies. Men who are yet monarchs though without crowns, or thrones, or rights hereditary. Whom does Spain produce?" La Truaumont asked.

"De Montérey at first stipulated for the head of the house of--Le Dédaigneux. The Duke----"

"Ah!" whispered Humphrey to himself.

"But finding that this might not be, that the Duke refuses since he would have to throw too heavy a stake to win even so great a prize as this, they will accept him."

"They must," the listener heard the woman say. "He must be head or nothing."

"They have agreed," Van den Enden continued. "They desire Quillebeuf, De Montérey avers, more than all the places of which Le Roi Soleil has despoiled them. They wish to form a Republic rivalling that of Venice, one that, in being with them, shall crush all who are against them."

"And Louis! The King. What of him?"

"Listen. His guards have been dispatched to join the army. Le Dédaigneux as their colonel has taken care of that."

"My God!" Humphrey whispered to himself. "He is in it. The chief conspirator and no tool!"

"The King will," Van den Enden went on, "be either at St. Germain or Fontainebleau for the next few weeks or months. And then--then----"

"Then?" said La Truaumont.

"Then five hundred Norman gentlemen will subdue the courtiers and seize on him. We shall have him. Hold him."

"Go on!" La Truaumont muttered, his voice husky and deep. "What next? What will you do with him?"

"He will sign a renunciation of his throne or----"

"Or?"

"He will go to the Bastille, or Pignerol--Pignerol is safer; it is afar off, out of, lost to, the world. He will experience that which he has caused countless others to experience. And, later, he will--die."

"Die! How?"

"As others have died," the Jew hissed. "As all die who suffer under his tyranny. By his own hands, or--will--appear--to have done so."

"My horse is in its stall," Humphrey thought to himself now; "my rapier to my hand. It is time, and full time, too, for me to be on my way. On my way to France--thank heaven the frontier is so near at hand! To Paris, to the King. There is no time to lose. The King to be seized and, later, the country invaded; the fortresses taken! And I know all the scheme. All, as well as the names of all concerned."

"Yet," he went on, "I must contain myself longer. To leave this room now, however softly; to attempt to unbar the door of this closed house, if it is yet shut; to saddle 'Soupir' and ride off now is to tell those wretches in there that they are blown upon. I must wait--wait till full night has come, till midnight at earliest, or even until later and, then, off and away. Away through the mountains, over the plains--on--on--till I stand face to face with the King and tell him all. Heaven above be praised, he knows me and my name: he has befriended me and been good to my mother. It will not be hard to do. Oh! that I could creep out now, at once, so as to waste no precious moment."

For an instant, as thus he communed with himself, there had come to him a thought that he would endeavour to communicate with the Duchess by tapping gently on the door that was between their rooms; by attracting the attention of her or Jacquette, both of whom were probably at supper now in their salon; and by stealing away in that manner. But no sooner had this idea come to him than it was discarded. The tapping, or scratching, he must make to call their attention to him would equally summon the attention of those in that other room, and might, indeed, reach their ears sooner than it would reach the ears of the others whose notice he desired to attract. No! he must stay quiet until, at least, those in the next room had separated, which, judging by the words he had heard the once unknown voice utter to the effect that La Truaumont and his party should be abed before ten--would undoubtedly not be long now.

Meanwhile, as these reflections passed through his mind his ears were still on the alert; even as he thought, so he could listen, too, and not only hear but grasp what was the subject of conversation between the conspirators in that room.

From the absolute conspiracy itself the talk had now wandered to other matters, and at this moment Humphrey heard La Truaumont say:--

"I ride with this heroine of romance--this folle who is covered with jewels but, sangdieu! will not have more than a change of linen with her--as far as Martigny. There I shall be taken with sudden illness, the vapours, the falling sickness--the megrims--one will do as well as t'other, and so I shall be left behind. And then, when they are gone, hey! for France, for Normandy."

A moment later, the opening and shutting gently of the door was heard by Humphrey; a stealthy though heavy tread in the corridor was also apparent to the young man's ears: he knew, he felt sure he knew, that the man had left the room. The plot was laid bare by Van den Enden, the meeting over.

The other two in that room continued, however, to remain in it, and more than once Humphrey heard the rasping tones of the voice which he felt sure belonged to the old man who had descended from the French coach, and the softer, sweeter ones of the woman who inhabited those apartments and, as far as he knew, never stirred out of them. But, though he heard the tones, the words that were uttered were now unintelligible, and it flashed instantly into Humphrey's mind that the pair were whispering to each other.

"Whispering," he said to himself. "Whispering! Yet why now, when the worst is told and has been told openly and, beyond uncertainty, without fear of that worst being overheard? Why have the two to speak in whispers now since, when they were three, they said nothing that--as they thought--needed suppression?"

............