“Ah!” muttered Augustine Vadier, bitterly, sinking back on the bed, “thus it always is with tools; but take care, Monsieur Gramont, I am a dangerous tool to cast aside as worthless.” Monsieur Gramont was just the kind of man to neglect any one but himself. Selfish, heartless, and unprincipled, he felt for no one; he befriended the wretch Vadier, because he was a most expert forger, and because he knew he knew a secret or two of his late father’s, better hidden than disclosed. He wanted him no further, so he then thought, and in reality he was rather grieved that the splinter of the rock did not finish him entirely, instead of merely putting out his eye. Changing his dress, and making the most of his really handsome person, Bertram Gramont mounted his horse, and set out alone for Château Coulancourt. CHAPTER XXXVI. On reaching the mansion, Monsieur Gramont’s first interview was with Sergeant Perrin in the lower hall. “So you missed seizing the person of Louis Lebeau?” said the Maire to the sergeant. “Yes, Monsieur Gramont, we did; he was certainly not in the château, and you did not give us further instructions than to search the house, and keep a careful guard, which we did.” “Till you heard the firing, sergeant, down at Palos Creek, and then you left only two of the men to keep watch—eh, mon ami?” “Well, Monsieur le Maire, I thought I ought, under the circumstances, to see if we could be of any service in driving off those diables Anglais, but they had a heavy gun loaded with grape.” “Never mind, sergeant; I am aware that grape is not easy of digestion, so you prudently retired.” “Non, ma foi, monsieur, not till the Vengeance was fairly out of the creek. The coast-guard would not face the gun, and three men were killed and a great many wounded amongst the soldiers.” “Bien, as that cannot be remedied, let us talk of what we have on hand; send one of your men for a lad called Joseph, belonging to this establishment.” In a few minutes one of the men returned with the gardener’s grandson, who looked very frightened. “Where did you go, my lad,” inquired Monsieur Gramont, “yesterday evening, just after dusk?” The boy looked all round him for help, he grew pale, and remained silent. “Oh!” said Monsieur Gramont, “are you another dummy? Do you know, if you do not find your tongue, I will find a most effectual restorer of speech.” A friend stepped into the chamber to the great relief of the culprit, with an easy, unembarrassed countenance, and faced Monsieur Gramont without flinching; this friend to Joseph was pretty Julia Plessis. “You frighten the lad, Monsieur Gramont,” said Julia, patting the boy’s head; “don’t be alarmed, Joseph, tell Monsieur le Maire that you did what you were told to do, and obeyed your mistress.”