He sat by the table like a log; his mind was obviously a blank to all else save to his own terrors engendered by the events of this night.
With bleary, half-veiled eyes he followed Armand's progress through the room, and seemed unaware of the loud slamming of the outside door.
Chauvelin had escorted the young man past the first line of sentry, then he took cordial leave of him.
"Your certificate will, you will find, open every gate to you.
Good-night, citizen.

A demain." "Good-night." Armand's slim figure disappeared in the gloom.

Chauvelin watched him for a few moments until even his footsteps had died away in the distance; then he turned back towards Heron's lodgings.
"A nous deux," he muttered between tightly clenched teeth; "a nous deux once more, my enigmatical Scarlet Pimpernel.".