Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,56

the commotion he had just provoked, Laincourt hesitated.

'The Alchemist . . . Why?'

'You say these papers of the Black Claw relate to him. What else ?'

'That was all Teyssier said on the subject.'

'Could La Donna have dealings with the Alchemist?'

'Who knows?'

La Fargue rose from his chair with a determined air.

'Almades,' he said. 'Ask Andre to saddle two horses. You and I are leaving for La Renardiere at once.'

'Captain . . .' Agnes objected. 'It will be the black of night by the time you arrive . . .'

But the old gentleman appeared not to hear her.

'Monsieur de Laincourt,' he asked, 'could you be ours until morning?'

When the young man nodded, he went on to say:

'In that case, I want you to return to sieur Teyssier and oblige him, if necessary, to spend all night studying the documents we entrusted to his care. Make sure he knows how important this is. If you wish, Agnes or Marciac will accompany you.'

And turning to those two, he added: 'But I want at least one of you to remain here, to wait for news from either of our two parties. Is that understood?'

*

Less than a quarter of an hour later, after La Fargue and Almades departed into the dusk, it was decided that Agnes would go with Laincourt to see the cardinal's master of magic.

'It's up to you to guard the fort,' she said to Marciac.

Embarrassed, the latter rubbed a hand over his stubbled cheeks and, drawing the young baronne aside, out of earshot of the others, he murmured to her:

'I have to go somewhere, Agnes.'

'What? Now?'

'Yes.'

'Where?'

'I can't tell you that.'

'Nicolas . . .' Agnes sighed.

'I swear to you it doesn't involve a woman. Or a card game.'

'So what is it then? Or rather, who?'

'I would tell you if I could . . .' Then in a more breezy tone, as if they had already reached an accord, he said: 'Listen, I promise I won't be long. And anyway, Ballardieu will be here. It's not as if I'm abandoning the place to the enemy, is it?'

And after dropping a quick kiss on the young woman's brow, he left her there, making a discreet exit from the mansion through the rear garden. Agnes stood for a moment with a troubled expression on her face, before pulling herself together and quickly dashing up the main staircase to her bedchamber.

Now armed and booted, a leather cord securing the heavy plait of her black hair, Agnes joined Laincourt in the stable, where he was helping Andre and Ballardieu saddle two more horses.

'We need to make haste,' she said. 'The Paris gates will be closing soon. Need a hand?'

Although its ramshackle walls and muddy ditches were very poor defences indeed, Paris was a fortified city and its gates were closed during the night. The Hotel de l'Epervier, being located in the faubourg Saint-Germain, lay outside the city's walls, whereas His Eminence's master of magic lived within. To be sure, the Blades all possessed passes signed by Richelieu himself, but persuading the city watch to open up was both a tiresome business and an enormous waste of time.

Laincourt did not answer. He continued to busy himself with the horses as if he had not heard Agnes, and then, with a stony expression, he asked:

'Will you tell me what this is all about?'

The young baronne de Vaudreuil exchanged an embarrassed look with Ballardieu. Then she told herself that the cardinal's former agent no doubt deserved to know the heart of the matter. She sighed and with a resigned air, waved to Andre and Ballardieu that they should leave.

And once she and Laincourt were alone in the stable she said:

'Go ahead, ask your questions. I will answer if I have the right to do so.'

He had just finished saddling his mount. After tightening a last strap, he stood up and caught the baronne's gaze.

'What happened, just now?' he wanted to know. 'Why did La Fargue react the way he did when he heard me speak the Alchemist's name? And why did the rest of you, at that same moment, seem so worried?'

Agnes wondered where she should start.

'What do you know of the Alchemist, monsieur?'

Laincourt pursed his lips.

'I know what is said about him.'

'Which is?'

'Which is that he is the oldest, the craftiest, and the most formidable of the Black Claw's agents. The very best of them, in fact. But this name — the Alchemist — is all anyone knows of him, and it is, no doubt, a nom de guerre. No one