Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,40

not know what is going on?'

Rochefort ignored the question:

'Whenever the king annuls a ruling it's always a very unpopular decision. The Parlement protests loudly, everyone gets stirred up, and there are inevitably a few brave souls ready to stoke the people's anger and cry tyranny . . . And kings dislike it when there are rumblings among the people.

Especially on the eve of a war.'

'Lorraine.'

'Yes, Lorraine . . . You see, La Fargue, to succeed without making too many waves, these sorts of affairs have to be carefully arranged. Public opinion has to be prepared, some loyalties have to be bought in advance, favourable pamphlets have to be written, suitable rumours propagated . . . It's much easier than you probably think, but it demands care, money and, above all, time. And time is what we lack most . . .'

La Fargue was starting to take full stock of the problem: a spy who would or could not talk, a plot threatening the king looming on the horizon, and an hourglass whose sands were already funnelling downwards.

After a brief moment of reflection, he asked: 'What are His Eminence's orders?'

Holding the door, Leprat waited patiently while Danvert gave Alessandra di Santi's bedchamber a final but thorough glance.

This had been their routine since La Donna came to stay at La Renardiere. Each morning, as soon as the coach which took her to Le Chatelet departed, they visited her apartments. Leprat supervised, although his presence was not truly necessary. The domestic servants the cardinal had so graciously assigned to serve the lady spy knew their business. They did not content themselves with observing her every deed and gesture and making daily reports. They also inspected her bedchamber and antechamber with a fine-tooth comb, under the maitre d'hotel's keen eye, and he - rather than Leprat

— directed their search and ensured that nothing was overlooked.

Danvert was alert and gave precise orders, but otherwise said little. He was about fifty years old.

With his trim figure, grey hair and the naturally hale complexion of Mediterranean folk, he had devoted his life to providing perfect service. He was gifted with all the qualities of the best maitres d'hotel, whose duty was to ensure the smooth running of a household and to manage the domestic staff. That is to say, he was discreet, intelligent, honest, attentive, and foresighted. But he also had a flaw that was very common in his profession: a type of arrogance inspired by the sense - often well-founded - of being indispensable.

In practice, he was the true master of La Renardiere. Assisted by a staff which was at his beck and call, he kept the premises in readiness to welcome any guest on short notice, even in the middle of the night, to stay for any length of time from a few hours to days or even weeks on end. He was aware of the exceptional nature of the guests the cardinal received here. It seemed he was never surprised by anything, did not ask to know any more than was necessary, and performed his duties with zeal without ever becoming emotional about his work. Leprat quickly took his measure and came to rely

on him, in the same way that a good officer would rely on an experienced sergeant. It was a decision that the former musketeer was not given cause to regret, and on which he congratulated himself the first time he witnessed the servants' systematic search of La Donna's apartments: Danvert clearly knew what he was doing.

'A problem?' asked Leprat when the maitre d'hotel hesitated.

Only the two of them remained in Alessandra's antechamber.

Danvert was chewing on his lower lip, a certain sign of perplexity. He did not answer, and, acting on an impulse, he went over to the cage where Alessandra's dragonnets were cooped up. One of the twins — no doubt the male, Charybdis -growled at him when he checked the padlock securing the little door.

That done, the maitre d'hotel finally decided to leave and, in passing, gave Leprat an apologetic look for making him wait. But the Blade gave him a reassuring glance in return.

'It would be simpler if we knew what we were looking for, wouldn't it?'

'Indeed, monsieur. We can never be too careful.'

Leprat closed the door, turned the key twice in the lock, and the two men walked away.

'I'm going to get some sleep,' announced the former musketeer, stifling a yawn. 'Wake me if you need me.'

'Very good, monsieur.'

The dragonnets waited for the voices and the sound of