“Oh, _ma foi_, you may well ask what is it!” replied Rochefort, irritated by the manner of the other. “It is this precious business of yours that has fallen on me, and it seems to me now that I am the only one to pay. Choiseul has discovered my part in it; he tried to arrest me at Versailles last night, he failed and I am here. I am pursued—that is all.” Dubarry rose to his feet thoroughly sobered; he walked a few steps up and down the room, as if trying to pull his thoughts together. Then he turned to Rochefort. “You will excuse me for saying it, my dear Rochefort, but, considering the delicate position of the Comtesse and the fact that Choiseul is in pursuit of you—it would have been wiser of you to have sought shelter elsewhere. We are quite ready to help, but it is imperative now that this affair has blown over that we should resume friendly relationship with Choiseul. Of course, we are not friends, still, you can very well understand the necessity of our keeping up an appearance of friendship with the man who is the first man in France after his Majesty. It is diplomacy—that is all.” “Excuse me,” said Rochefort, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” “In what way?” “I did not come here to take shelter.” “You came, then, to see me?” Rochefort looked Dubarry up and down, then he broke into a laugh. “No, my dear man, I did not come here to see you. I came here to see Mademoiselle Fontrailles, and to take my leave of her before I leave France or enter the Bastille.” “To see Mademoiselle Fontrailles?” “Precisely.” “At this hour?” “The matter is urgent.” “But it is impossible. She is not up yet.” “She will get up when she learns that I am here.” “You think so. Well, I tell you no. Put off your visit to her, for she came back last night not well disposed towards you; you kept her waiting, it seems, and then you did not arrive.” “I wish to explain all that.” “Wait, then,” said Jean. He left the room in an irritable manner, and returned in a minute or two. “Mademoiselle Fontrailles is unable to see you; she will not be visible before noon.” “Ah, then at noon she will not be visible to me, for at noon I must be out of Paris. You did not give her my message.” “Oh, _ma foi_!” cried Jean, swelling like a turkey-cock. “You say that to my face! You give me the lie direct!” “I give you nothing. I say you did not explain to her fully my position.” “Explain to her your position? _Mon Dieu_! I explained it as well as I could, shouting through her closed bedroom door, and her reply was, ‘Tell Monsieur Rochefort I am unable to see him, and in any event I will not come down till noon.’ So you see, she did not even say she would see you at noon.” “The devil!” said Rochefort. “I don’t know what to make of you all. I say nothing about any help I have given you, but I will say this, the man I have pitted myself against, Monsieur de Choiseul, is at least a gentleman who looks after the interests of his friends. Good-day.”