I have been trying to find him this fortnight."
"I cannot tell you where he is, my dear count--"
"Of course not! I do not ask," he interrupted.
"--But I may be able to forward your letter to him. I heard only the
other day that he was in France."
"Of course, of course, he is in France! Not in England at all! Good,
good! I see you are to be trusted. But I must have your word of honor
that the letter will be delivered."
"I shall send it by none but a trusted messenger," I answered, "and shall
return it to you unopened unless I am convinced beyond a doubt that it
will reach our friend."
"Good, good! Come to my hotel. I will trust you."
We went to De Grammont's house, and after taking great precautions
against discovery, he gave me a small wooden box wound with yards of tape
and sealed with quantities of wax. I put the box in my pocket, saying:--
"I accept the trust on my honor, dear count, and though the package bears
no name nor address, I shall deliver it to the person for whom it is
intended."
De Grammont said he knew nothing of the contents of the box except that
it contained a message for a friend, and I believed him.
When I left his house he came to the door with me, murmuring: "My
gratitude! My gratitude! Also the gratitude of my king, which I hope may
prove of far greater value to your friend than my poor offering of
words."
I lost no time in seeking George, except to make sure that I was not
followed.
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