It was, in fact, Mordaunt whom D’Artagnan had followed, without knowing it. On entering the house he had taken off his mask and imitation beard, then, mounting a staircase, had opened a door, and in a room lighted by a single lamp found himself face to face with a man seated behind a desk.
This man was Cromwell.
Cromwell had two or three of these retreats in London, unknown except to the most intimate of his friends. Mordaunt was among these.
“It is you, Mordaunt,” he said.
“You are late.”
“General, I wished to see the ceremony to the end, which delayed me.”