“On the contrary, Monsieur de Rochefort, since you confess yourself ignorant of one of the most sublime branches of art, it will be my pleasure to open for you the doors of a Paradise where all may enter, so be that they are properly led. But, hush! I hear a sound in the corridor. Replace your bed.” Rochefort rose to his feet and replaced the bed. Scarcely had he done so, when the door opened, and Bonvallot appeared, bearing some clean linen, two towels, and some toilet necessaries. “Here, monsieur,” said Bonvallot, “are several shirts new laundered, and other articles, which I have scraped together for your comfort. Half a louis will pay for them.” “Thanks, put them on the bed; and now tell me, which of the guests of your precious inn occupied my chamber last.” “Why, monsieur, this chamber has not had a tenant for two years and a half. Then it was occupied by Monsieur de Thumery.” “And what became of Monsieur de Thumery?” “He was removed to the next chamber, monsieur.” “Ah, and is he there still?” “No, monsieur, he died a month ago.” “What sort of man was he, this Monsieur de Thumery?” “A very delicate man, monsieur, and very pious—one who scarcely ever spoke.” “He never tried to escape, I suppose.” “Oh, _mon Dieu_! no, Monsieur, he was as gentle as a lamb. He did nothing but read the lives of the saints.” “Thank you, and here is your half louis. And what is that book on the bed?” “Why, I brought it with the clothes, monsieur, as you said you wished for books. It belonged to Monsieur de Thumery. It is not much, some religious book or other—still, it is a book.” He went off, and Rochefort picked up M. de Thumery’s religious book. It was the works of François Rabelais, printed by Tollard of the Rue de la Harpe, in the year 1723. BOOK III CHAPTER I THE POISONING OF ATALANTA Meanwhile, Lavenne, having watched the carriage containing Rochefort and Captain Roux taking its departure, turned and took his way to Rochefort’s rooms in the Rue de Longueville. The Rochefort affair was only an incident in his busy profession, yet whilst he was upon it, it held his whole life and ambition in life. He was made in such a manner, that the moment filled all his purview without blinding him. He could see the moment, yet he could also see consequences—that is to say, the future, and causes—that is to say, the past. In his seven years’ work under Sartines, he had learned the fact that these social and political cases like that of Rochefort almost invariably produce, or are allied to, other cases, either engaging or soon to engage the attention of the police. Even in the spacious Court of France, people were too tightly packed for one to move in an eccentric manner without producing far-reaching disturbances, and he was soon to prove this fact in the case of M. de Rochefort.