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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"


I had hoped for this, for I could now keep watch, and learn at
least whether Cocheforet left before morning. If he did not, I
should know he was still here. If he did, I should be the better
for seeing his features, and learning, perhaps, other things that
might be of use to me in the future.
Making up my mind to the uncomfortable, I sat down on the floor
by the lattice, and began a vigil that might last, I knew, until
morning. It did last about an hour, at the end of which time I
heard whispering below, then footsteps; then, as some persons
turned a corner, a voice speaking aloud and carelessly. I could
not catch the words or meaning, but the voice was a gentleman's,
and its bold accents and masterful tone left me in no doubt that
the speaker was M. de Cocheforet himself. Hoping to learn more,
I pressed my face nearer to the opening, and had just made out
through the gloom two figures--one that of a tall, slight man,
wearing a cloak, the other, I fancied, a woman's, in a sheeny
white dress--when a thundering rap on the door of my garret made
me spring back a yard from the lattice, and lie down hurriedly on
my couch.


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