He rose as suddenly as he had cowered down. His thin, nervous face underwent a startling change; growing on a sudden hard and rigid, while his eyes began to glitter with excitement. ‘I--I have destroyed her? Ay, mon dieu! I HAVE,’ he cried, speaking to my face, and no longer flinching or avoiding my eye. ‘You may kill me, if you like. You do not know all. It was I who stole the favour she gave you from your doublet, and then said M. de Rosny had taken it! It was I who told her you had given it away! It was I who brought her to the Little Sisters’, that she might see you with Madame de Bruhl! It was I who did all, and destroyed her! Now you know! Do with me what you like!’ He opened his arms as though to receive a blow, while I stood before him astounded beyond measure by a disclosure so unexpected; full of righteous wrath and indignation, and yet uncertain what I ought to do. ‘Did you also let Bruhl into the room on purpose?’ I cried at last. ‘I?’ he exclaimed, with a sudden flash of rage in his eyes. ‘I would have died first!’ I do not know how I might have taken this confession; but at the moment there was a trampling of horses outside, and before I could answer him I heard M. de Rambouillet speaking in haughty tones, at the door below. The Provost-Marshal was with him, but his lower notes were lost in the ring of bridles and the stamping of impatient hoofs. I looked towards the door of my room, which stood ajar, and presently the two entered, the Marquis listening with an air of contemptuous indifference to the apologies which the other, who attended at his elbow, was pouring forth. M. de Rambouillet’s face reflected none of the gloom and despondency which M. d’Agen’s exhibited in so marked a degree. He seemed, on the contrary, full of gaiety and good-humour, and, coming forward and seeing me, embraced me with the utmost kindness and condescension. ‘Ha! my friend,’ he said cheerfully, ‘so I find you here after all! But never fear. I am this moment from the king with an order for your release. His Majesty has told me all, making me thereby your lasting friend and debtor. As for this gentleman,’ he continued, turning with a cold smile to the Provost-Marshal, who seemed to be trembling in his boots, ‘he may expect an immediate order also. M. de Villequier has wisely gone a-hunting, and will not be back for a day or two.’ Racked as I was by suspense and anxiety, I could not assail him with immediate petitions. It behoved me first to thank him for his prompt intervention, and this in terms as warm as I could invent. Nor could I in justice fail to commend the Provost; to him, representing the officer’s conduct to me, and lauding his ability. All this, though my heart was sick with thought and fear and disappointment, and every minute seemed an age.