“And you say, mademoiselle, that Monsieur de Rochefort, returning from the chase of those ruffians, one of whom he killed, by the way, found Monsieur Camus offering you an insult and struck him to the ground. Did Monsieur Camus not resent that action?” “Monsieur, he did nothing, but he turned when he was going away and shook his finger at Monsieur de Rochefort.” “Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, one question more: on whose service were you carrying that letter of which the robbers wished to relieve you? Speak without fear, whatever you say will do Monsieur de Rochefort no harm.” “Monsieur, it was a letter addressed to Madame Dubarry.” “Ah ha! That is all I wish to know. Well, say nothing of all this to anyone else, and should you have anything more to communicate to me, come to my private address, No. 10, Rue Picpus; ask for Monsieur Lavenne. That is my name. And remember this, as far as it is in my power, I am the friend of Monsieur de Rochefort.” “Thank you, monsieur—and may I ask one question? Do you know where Monsieur de Rochefort is now, and is he safe?” “I cannot tell you where he is, but I believe he is safe. In fact, I may be as frank with you as you have been with me, and say he is safe.” “Thank you, monsieur.” “One moment,” said Lavenne, as she rose to go. “May I ask your address, should I by any possibility need it?” “I am in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles, monsieur.” “Ah, you are in the service of Mademoiselle Fontrailles. Well, Mademoiselle Javotte, say nothing to anyone of our meeting, say nothing of our conversation, say nothing of Monsieur de Rochefort; but keep your eyes and ears open, and if you wish to serve Monsieur de Rochefort, let me have any news you may be able to bring me concerning him.” “Now, I will swear that girl is in love with the Count,” said Lavenne to himself, when she had departed, “and the Count, according to my master, is in love with Mademoiselle Fontrailles, who has the reputation of being incapable of love. Mademoiselle Fontrailles is a bosom friend of Madame Dubarry, and Madame Dubarry’s letter it was which caused the agents of Monsieur de Choiseul to attack Mademoiselle Javotte, and Monsieur de Rochefort to kill one of those precious agents. Mademoiselle Javotte has already proved to me that Monsieur le Comte Camus has lied in giving his evidence against Monsieur de Rochefort. The case widens, like those circles that form when one throws a stone into a pond. Well, let it continue to widen, and we will see what we will see.” He finished his examination of Rochefort’s rooms, paid the valet off, locked the place up and started for the Hôtel de Sartines. Monsieur de Sartines was seated in the octagon chamber on the first floor; he was busy writing at the famous bureau of a hundred drawers, which contained in its recesses half the secrets of France, and which had belonged to his predecessor, Monsieur D’Ombreval.