Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter.

30 September 1018
Former’s Guild House, Mont-Havre

Dear Armand,

I am not and have not been easy in my mind about M. Sabot. He rings false, to my ears.

Of course, I cannot doubt his identity, not now that both you and Madame Truc have seen him. He is the man who sat at Madame Truc’s table, and, sans doute, he must also be the son of the Comte de L—.

Nevertheless, I mistrust him.

You will call me foolish. He has been vouched for you, you will say; he has clearly not been living well, you will say. There is no reason to doubt his words, you will say.

And yet, for such a taciturn man he seemed a bit too free with his words yesterday.

You will perhaps be outraged, but in anticipation of your arrival I paid a young lad to linger in the street, and to follow M. Sabot on his departure should he choose not to leave with you. (I have made the acquaintance of a number of such lads; it is always worthwhile, for they know which cafés are the busiest, and which have the best food, and where anything new is going on.)

And though no doubt you are distressed that I would use a gentleman so, I ask you to listen to what I have discovered.

First, M. Sabot led my lad on a merry and winding path about the city. The lad doesn’t believe he was seen, though of course he may have been. But it was clear to both him and to me Sabot wished to avoid notice, and also not to be followed.

Second, M. Sabot approached the back door of quite a prosperous dwelling, and was received. My Provençese is not up to recording Armorican street cant, but a Yorkish urchin would have called it a “proper toff’s house”.

Third, some time later M. Sabot emerged from the front door, looking freshly washed and clothed in the latest style, and stepped out in a spritely manner quite at odds with his behavior at the guild house.

My lad lost contact with him after that. He did not wish to discuss the circumstances, and I did not press; but I fear he may have lightened Sabot’s pockets somewhat, for I noticed crumbs on his chemise as I handed him the agreed-upon coins.

I do not know what Sabot’s game is. He has asked for nothing, indeed has been reluctant to take anything; and it is only when I pressed him that he agreed to remain at the guild house until you came. Pride? Perhaps; though it is an odd pride that will lead a man to dress below his means. But, you will say, surely a man may wear whatever he pleases, and need answer to no one for it?

You would be quite right; but I remain uneasy. If he is well off, why should he choose to hide this from his friends? He cannot be worried that you might try to borrow money from him. I find that I cannot help thinking of his visit to the guild house as something like a reconnaissance mission; that he was surprised to find me in residence, was indeed hoping to find no one in residence.

And then I wonder how he spent his days while living in Madame Truc’s boarding house; and how he spent them when Le Maréchal‘s men came to town; and how he has spent them since. He cannot have been using the name Sabot, or M. Suprenant would have heard long since.

It’s a mystery, Armand; and though perhaps you will say I am starting at shadows, I do not like it.

Your suspicious and impertinent cousin,

Jack

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