On my way to the Rue de Bourdonnais, however, I began to turn the matter of Ravaillac over again in my mind, and found myself between the hedge and the ditch. If I got rid of him, the man, if he was a spy, could watch me in secret; if I kept him with me, the same thing happened. After all, whilst with me he had greater opportunities, and the less of the two evils was to be rid of him--yes, it would be better so. Imagine my disappointment when reaching his hotel to find that Belin was out! Vallon begged me to wait, explaining that his master had been absent for so long a time that his return would be but a matter of minutes. He had supped out the night before with de Vitry, the Captain of the Scots Guards, and M. le Grand, had come back late, and gone forth very early in the morning, and it was now full time he was back. I determined therefore to wait, though every moment was of importance to me, and, after a half-hour of patience in an easy chair, rose and walked towards the window, to while away the time by watching what was going on below. One of the heavy brocade curtains was half drawn, and without thinking of it I came up towards that side, and looked out from behind its cover. It struck me as strange that my horse was without the gate, instead of being within the courtyard, and Ravaillac, with the reins thrown over his shoulder, was engaged in converse with a cavalier whose back was turned to me, and whose head was entirely concealed by his broad-brimmed hat and long plumes. But the tall, straight figure, with its stretch of shoulder, could not be mistaken. It was de Gomeron to a certainty, and my doubts on the point were soon at rest. Keeping as far as possible within the shadow of the curtain, I watched them for full five minutes whilst they conversed together earnestly, and then something changed hands between them. Finally, the cavalier left Ravaillac with a nod to his salute, and crossed over to the other side of the road, where a mounted lackey was holding his horse. As he gained the saddle, he turned his face towards me for an instant. There was no shadow of doubt left. It was de Gomeron, and it was clear that there was more between the free-lance and Ravaillac than there should be, and also I was convinced, I know not how, that what had passed between them touched me, and was not for my good. What object the man had to play traitor I cannot say; but I do know that there are some natures to whom double dealing is as their skin, and whom nothing can turn from falsehood and chicane.