Lucilio, who divined at the first word the marquis's deep interest in this discovery, turned over the last leaves, and soon found this one, which Mario translated fluently, almost without hesitation, turning his beautiful eyes to the beautiful eyes of his teacher at the end of each sentence, to make sure before continuing that he had made no mistake: "As to the Pr---- de C----é, I shall find a way to see him personally; I have received certain information from an intelligent and intriguing priest, which may be of use. "Remember the name of Poulain, rector of Briantes. He is from Bourges and knows many things, notably concerning the said prince, who is very greedy of money and exceedingly incapable in respect to politics; but he will go where ambition drives him. He can be led on by great hopes, and used as the Guises were, for he has nothing of Condé but the name, and is afraid of everybody and everything. "He is for that reason more difficult to catch than he appears. Personally he amounts to nothing. His name is still a host in itself. In the hope of becoming king, he is prepared to give many pledges to the most holy I----, reserving the right to retract if his interest demands it. It is said that he would not shrink from making way with the k---- and his brother, and that, if need were, one could strike high and hard by means of that paltry mind and that nerveless arm. "If in your opinion it is wise to encourage him in this ambition, advise your most humble----" "Good! good!" cried the marquis. "Here we have the wherewithal to make trouble between our friend Poulain and monsieur le prince, and between them both and the memory of dear Monsieur d'Alvimar. God knows that my choice would be to let that dead man rest in peace; but if they threaten to avenge him, we will let the kind friends who pity him know him as he really was." "That is all very well," said pretty Madame de Beuvre, "on condition that you can prove that these notes were written by his hand." "True," replied the marquis, "without that they will not help us. But doubtless Guillaume will be able to provide us with a letter signed by him." "That is probable; and you must look to it at once, my dear marquis!" "In that case," said the marquis, kissing her hand as he wished her good-night--for she had risen to retire--"in that case I will return to Guillaume's to-morrow; meanwhile let us be very careful of our proofs and our weapons." On waking the next morning, the marquis found Lucilio in his room, who handed him a sheet upon which he had written something for him to read. The poor fellow proposed that he should go away for a time, in order that the storm which threatened them both might not burst upon his generous friend more quickly because of his presence.