There was no pretence now, I was sure. Mystified, yet not doubting, I whispered: "I yield, mademoiselle! God knows I would believe you innocent!" and went behind the curtains, at the foot of the bed. It was easy to stand behind these without disturbing the natural folds in which they fell to the floor. The curtains at the sides also served to shield me from view, so that I could not have been seen except from within the bed itself. I had no sooner found this concealment, and mademoiselle had no sooner taken her place, standing with as much composure as she could assume, a short distance from the foot of the bed, than M. de la Chatre and his secretary entered the chamber. Peering between the curtains, I saw that La Chatre was lame, and that he walked with the aid of a stick on one side and Montignac's shoulder on the other. "To think," he was saying as he came in, "that the misstep of a horse should have made a helpless cripple of me, when I might have led this hunt myself!" I assumed that the "hunt" was the expedition to Maury, and smiled to think how far was the game from the place of hunting. The undisturbed mien of La Chatre showed that he had not heard of the arrival of mademoiselle or of myself, or of the brief fight in the courtyard. He would not have worn that look of security had he known that, of six guards at the chateau, three now lay dead in the courtyard, one had fled, and two were being looked after by my man Frojac. He wore a rich chamber-robe and was bareheaded. Montignac was attired rather like a soldier than like a scribe, having on a buff jerkin and wearing both sword and dagger. His breeches and hose were of dull hue, so that the only brightness of color on him was the red of his hair and lips. It was, doubtless, from an excess of precaution that he went so well armed in the chateau at so late an hour. Yet I smiled to see weapons on this slight and fragile-looking youth, whose strength lay in his brain rather than in his wrist. With great interest I watched him now, knowing that he had devised the plan for my capture, had caused Mlle. de Varion to be sent on her mission against me, and had sent De Berquin on his mission against her. This march of the troops to Maury, also, was probably his doing, even though it did imply a change from the plan overheard by me, and confessed by mademoiselle. He had, too, if De Berquin had told the truth, resolved to possess mademoiselle. He was thus my worst foe, this subtle youth who had never seen me, and whom I had never injured. He still had that look of mock humility, repressed scorn, half-concealed derision, hidden ambition, vast inner resource, mental activity, all under a calm and thoughtful countenance, over which he had control.