How I galloped back to Paris! It was
magnificent of you; it was fine."
"But you? And that cloak which I lent to you?"
"Well, I was as little concerned as you, which I proved to Mazarin. I
was at my sister's wedding at Blois. Your grey cloak was stolen from
my room the day before De Brissac met his violent end. My lad, Hector,
found the cloak in a tavern. How, he would not say. He dared not keep
it, so sent it to the Candlestick in care of another lad. He
understood that its disappearance might bring harm to you. I trounced
him well for his carelessness in permitting the cloak to be stolen."
"This is all very unusual. Stolen, from you?" bewildered.
"Yes."
"And it was not you?"
"Am I a killer of old men? No, Paul. De Brissac and I were on
excellent terms. You ought to know me better. I do not climb into
windows, especially when the door is always open for me. I am like my
sword, loyal, frank, and honest; we scorn braggart's cunning, dark
alleys, stealth; we look not at a man's back but into his face; we
prefer sunshine to darkness. And listen," tapping his sword: "he who
has done this thing, be he never so far away, yet shall this long sword
of mine find him and snuff his candle out.
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