Germain openly
accusing Saintonge of the murder; plainly, unless something were
done at once, a bloody fray was imminent.
"What do you think yourself, M. le Marchand?" I said, when I had
heard him out.
He shrugged his shoulders. "What can I think, your Excellency?"
he said. "What else was to be expected?"
"You take it for granted that M. de Saintonge is guilty?"
"The young man is gone," he answered pithily.
In spite of this, I thought the conclusion hasty, and contented
myself with bidding him see St. Germain and charge him to be
quiet; promising that, if necessary, the matter should be
investigated and justice done. I still had good hopes that St.
Mesmin's return would clear up the affair, and the whole turn out
to be a freak on his part; but within a few hours tidings that
Saintonge had taken steps to strengthen his house and was lying
at home, refusing to show himself, placed a different and more
serious aspect on the mystery. Before noon next day M. de Clan,
whose interference surprised me not a little, was with me to
support his son's petition; and at the King's LEVEE next day St.
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