Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,59

don't speak to me of accords that you have been the first to betray.'

'Does the cardinal have any reason to complain about the success of my mission in La Rochelle?'

'No. But he still recalls that, not so long ago, you refrained from saying anything about a certain person of interest to us.'

Marciac knew that Rochefort was referring to the hidden daughter of La Fargue, who had been found and protected a month earlier by the Blades. To ensure her security, the Gascon had even entrusted her to the care of the only woman he had ever loved. Gabrielle, who happened to keep a certain establishment The Little Frogs, in rue Grenouillere — where amiable young women practised the profession of satisfying the desires of generous men.

'I didn't know who she was and, therefore, was unaware of the interest that she might hold for you,'

Marciac defended himself.

'And where is she, at present?'

'I have no idea.'

'But there was a time when she was hiding in Paris, wasn't there?'

'Yes,' the Gascon admitted reluctantly.

'And where was she?'

'It doesn't matter.'

Rochefort displayed a sinister smile.

'I have the notion that this girl was in a house that was quite ill-suited to someone of her sex and her age. And since you are not offering me any information, it's possible that I might have to start knocking down doors and asking questions in rue Grenouillere . . .'

Marciac's blood started to boil. His face turned red and, with a sudden move, he seized Rochefort by the collar, lifted him up on the tip of his toes, and forced him back several steps until he thumped into the church door.

Don't you dare go near Gabrielle!' he spat. 'Don't threaten her! Don't even look at her. Forget you even know of her or, as God is my witness, I'll kill you.'

Livid, his lips twitching, Rochefort replied in a toneless voice:

'Release me, Marciac. Remember we have spectators who won't keep their distance for long if you cause trouble . . .'

The Gascon had indeed forgotten about the gentlemen who were waiting at the corner of rue du Four. In the darkness of night they would have difficulty seeing what was happening. But from their attitude, he could see that they were starting to worry.

'Will they do me an evil turn?' Marciac asked mockingly.

'It will be enough that they recognise you.'

The Gascon thought about it and then reluctantly released his grip on Rochefort.

'Don't go near Gabrielle,' he warned again, jabbing a menacing finger. 'Ever.'

And he was so wrapped up in his anger that he did not see the blow coming that caused him to topple backwards.

'And you,' hissed Rochefort, 'don't ever lay a hand on me again. Don't forget who I am, don't forget who I serve, and above all, don't forget what you are.'

Upon which, the cardinal's henchman turned on his heels and calmly walked away, rubbing his fist.

'Damn!' La Fargue swore.

Leprat had just informed him that, in all likelihood, La Renardiere was being attacked.

Without sparing La Donna a glance, he left his lieutenant by the door and went to look out of the window. The garden looked deserted despite the fact that musketeers were supposed to be patrolling there. Further off, the park was a great rectangular lake of blackness, surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see. A crescent moon and some stars dispensed a paltry bluish glow over the scene.

The Blades' captain cursed under his breath.

If the enemy had overcome the sentries without a fight, by now they could be anywhere within the domain.

'It's the dracs,' announced Alessandra. 'They've found me.'

At that instant, a silhouette — with a round back and taking large strides — crossed a garden path and vanished again into the shadows. A hired blade, clearly. But a drac? A man? La Fargue couldn't say. But his instinct told him La Donna was right.

'Stay right here,' he ordered her in a tone that brooked no argument.

Snatching up his rapier in its scabbard, he buckled on his baldric as he left the room with a determined step, Leprat following in his wake.

'The chambermaid?' he asked the former musketeer.

'I am here, monsieur.'

The woman in the service of La Donna was standing in a

corner of the antechamber, near the cot on which she normally slept. Worried, almost frightened, she did not dare to move.

'Go and join your mistress next door,' La Fargue commanded her. 'Do you have the key?'

'Yes,' replied the woman showing him her bunch.

'Then lock yourselves in.' Leprat said in turn. 'And don't open