"
"I will gladly seek him," said the vicomte, flashing a triumphant look
at D'Herouville, whose face became dark.
"Permit me to accompany you," requested the count.
"The vicomte will do, Monsieur," interposed the Chevalier, wonderingly.
The vicomte passed down the companionway and disappeared. He stopped
before the Chevalier's cabin and knocked. The sound of his knuckles
was as thunder in his ears. Breton opened the door, rubbing his eyes.
"Your master, my lad, has sent me for his grey cloak. Will you give it
to me to carry to him?"
"The grey cloak?" repeated Breton, greatly astonished.
"Yes. Be quick about it, as your master complains of the cold."
"Why, Monsieur Paul has not touched the grey cloak . . ."
"Must I get it myself? Be quick!" The vicomte was pale with
excitement and impatience.
Breton, without further parley, took down the cloak and passed it over
to the vicomte.
"Monsieur will find the collar badly torn," he said.
"If he changes his mind, I will return shortly;" and the vicomte threw
the cloak over his arm, left the cabin, and closed the door.
Breton wiped his hands on his breeches as if to wipe away the
contaminating touch of the cloak.
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