"Can you not guess?" he said, smiling, "When I had forced the confession of his treason from him I bound his arms to his side and pressed a gag into his mouth, which I removed together with his mask."
"But the mask?" I cried.
Again he smiled.
"How dull you are; I changed it whilst you were seeing to the coach."
"Why did you conceal the fact from me, Monseigneur?" I cried. "Did you mistrust me?"
"No, no, not that," he said, "I thought it wiser; you might have betrayed my identity by a show of respect. But go, leave me, Cavaignac, it grows late."
I made my bow, and, as I retired, I heard him muttering to himself the words of St. Augére: "Thus perish all traitors to the welfare of France." And with a chuckle he added: "How little he guessed the truth of what he said."