Page 885 - the-three-musketeers

63 THE DROP OF WATER

Rochefort had scarcely departed when Mme. Bonacieux
re-entered. She found Milady with a smiling countenance.
‘Well,’ said the young woman, ‘what you dreaded has
happened. This evening, or tomorrow, the cardinal will
send someone to take you away.’
‘Who told you that, my dear?’ asked Milady.
‘I heard it from the mouth of the messenger himself.’
‘Come and sit down close to me,’ said Milady.
‘Here I am.’
‘Wait till I assure myself that nobody hears us.’
‘Why all these precautions?’
‘You shall know.’
Milady arose, went to the door, opened it, looked in
the corridor, and then returned and seated herself close to
Mme. Bonacieux.
‘Then,’ said she, ‘he has well played his part.’
‘Who has?’
‘He who just now presented himself to the abbess as a
messenger from the cardinal.’
‘It was, then, a part he was playing?’
‘Yes, my child.’
‘That man, then, was not—‘
‘That man,’ said Milady, lowering her voice, ‘is my broth-
er.’

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