Choiseul, who had not moved nor spoken, suddenly found speech. Filled with fury at the whole business, not caring who was poisoned as long as the affair did not occur in his house, stricken in his dignity and hating the idea of a scandal, he turned to Sartines. “Take that carrion away,” he burst out. “Away with him by that door which opens on the kitchen premises. Go first, Sartines, and order all the servants to remain away from the yard where you will have a carriage brought. Then you can remove him to La Bastille. Monsieur de Rochefort, kindly help in the business—and Monsieur de Rochefort, all is cleared between us. Go in peace and avoid politics. Now do as I direct. No scandal, no noise—not a word about all this business which is deeply discreditable to our order. We poison in secret, it seems; well, in secret we shall punish.” “Monsieur,” said Sartines, delighted that the Rochefort business was over and done with, “I shall do exactly as you direct. It is best. Lavenne, open that door and give me your assistance with this.” Lavenne opened the door and they carried Camus out. Not one word had he spoken from first to last. Rochefort followed. When he reached the door, he turned and bowed to Choiseul, Choiseul returned the bow. Rochefort went out and shut the door behind him and the incident was closed. * * * * * Then Choiseul, taking the letter from his pocket re-read it, lit a taper and burned it in the grate. He stamped on the ashes and, leaving the room, returned to the _salon_ on which the passage opened. Some of the guests were taking their departure, amongst them the Dubarry party. “We were looking for Monsieur Camus,” said Jean Dubarry, “but he seems to have vanished.” “Ah, Comte Camus,” replied Choiseul, “I saw him early this evening, but I have not seen him since.” “Sartines came and fetched him off,” said Jean. “Then perhaps he has gone off with Sartines,” said Choiseul, “and now you are carrying off Mademoiselle Fontrailles so early in the evening. Ah, Mademoiselle Fontrailles, you are carrying away with you all the charm you have brought to my poor _salons_, and leaving behind you the envy of all the roses of Paris who have been eclipsed by the Flower of Martinique.” He bowed profoundly to the laughing girl and to Chon Dubarry. Then he went to the card-room. CHAPTER XII ENVOI A few days later the Comte de Rochefort was breakfasting with his friend, de Chartres, when, the conversation taking a turn, Rochefort, in reply to some remark of his companion, laughed. “That reminds me,” said he, “I am going to leave Paris.” “You are going to leave Paris? And for how long?” “Oh, an indefinite time.” “And who gave you that bright idea?” “M. de Duras.” “M. de Duras advised you to leave Paris?”