The agent had kept at the door the cab in which he had returned. He and the maidservant now busied themselves in removing the luggage. Madame Fosco came downstairs, thickly veiled, with the travelling cage of the white mice in her hand. She neither spoke to me nor looked towards me. Her husband escorted her to the cab. “Follow me as far as the passage,” he whispered in my ear; “I may want to speak to you at the last moment.”

I went out to the door, the agent standing below me in the front garden. The Count came back alone, and drew me a few steps inside the passage.

“Remember the Third condition!” he whispered. “You shall hear from me, Mr. Hartright⁠—I may claim from you the satisfaction of a gentleman sooner than you think for.” He caught my hand before I was aware of him, and wrung it hard⁠—then turned to the door, stopped, and came back to me again.