Part 8 (2/2)
”It seems convincing. Heaven grant, mademoiselle, that you are as honorable as you are beautiful. I must needs believe so and trust you.
To you I can prove that I am an honest messenger,” and Barrington tore from the lining of his coat a tiny packet of tissue paper. ”I have to give you this little golden star, your gift to Lucien.”
She took the packet with quick, trembling fingers, turned to the table, and by the light of the lantern unfolded the paper. With a little clink the star fell upon the table.
”This? This?” she said, starting back and pointing at it.
Barrington made a step forward at her sudden question, and then stood still, staring at the token.
It was no star of gold which lay in the circle of the lantern light, but a common thing of iron, roughly made, rusted and worthless.
CHAPTER V
THE WOOD END
Richard Barrington knew that he had fallen into some trap, the exact nature of it and the danger he could not know. After a pause, a long pause it seemed to Jeanne St. Clair, long enough for a villain to fas.h.i.+on a lying tale, he turned to her.
”It seems, mademoiselle, that I have been robbed as well as deceived.”
”In spite of that,” she said, pointing to the iron token, ”I am inclined to listen to the message.”
”Mademoiselle, I regret that I ever undertook to carry it. I had other business in hand, but an oath to a dead man was binding.”
”A dead man? Lucien?”
”I know nothing of Lucien. For all I know he may already be making merry at my discomfiture. The dead man was one Rouzet, or so he told me, and he called himself your servant.”
”He was Lucien's servant, a faithful one,” she answered.
”At least he was faithful in some one's service since he died in it, and I can honor him for that even though he deceived me.”
”You have told me so much you must tell me more,” she said, a persuasive tone in her voice.
She must hear the story. Whether this man were honest or not she must make him speak. Whatever plot was on foot she must know it. To some one surely Lucien had given the gold star. Much must depend on her receiving the message he had sent with it.
”You must tell me,” she repeated.
”And knowing far more than I do you may laugh at me for a simple gentleman easily fooled. Still, he is something of a hero who can stand being laughed at. Many years ago I had that from a countryman of yours, the Marquis de Lafayette. I was on my way to visit him in Paris, when this mission was thrust upon me.”
Concisely but in every detail Barrington told her what had happened at Tremont, and explained how he had become acquainted with Monsieur le Comte at Beauvais. He made no attempt to conceal the fact that he had come to France to place himself at the disposal of Monsieur de Lafayette. If there were any risk in telling this woman so, he was rather relieved to have real danger to face instead of lying and intrigue; the one he might meet successfully, but he was no adept in battling with the other.
”You took the star from Rouzet's coat after he was dead you say, are you sure it was a gold star you took?”
”I made certain by looking at it.”
”And you can thoroughly trust your servant?”
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