he affair."

"How long has Lucas been here, Marcel? Who is he?"

"Oh, he's a rascal of a Huguenot. Monsieur picked him up at Mantes, just
before we came to the city. And if he spies on Monsieur's enemies as
well as he does on this household, he must be a useful man. He has that
long nose of his in everything, let me tell you. Of course he was
present when Monsieur missed the pistoles. So then, quite on his own
account, without any orders, he took two of the men and searched M. de
Grammont's room. And in a locked chest of his which they forced open
they found five hundred of the pistoles in the very box Monsieur had
kept them in."

"And then?"

Marcel made a fine gesture.

"And then, pardieu! the storm broke. M. de Grammont raved like a madman.
He said Lucas was the thief and had put half the sum in his chest to
divert suspicion. He said it was a plot to ruin him contrived between
Monsieur and his henchman, Lucas. It is true enough, certes, that
Monsieur never liked him. He threatened Monsieur's life and Lucas's. He
challenged Monsieur, and Monsieur declined to cross swords with a
thief. He challenged Lucas, and Lucas took the cue from Monsieur. I was
not there--on either side of the door. What I tell you has leaked out
bit by bit from Lucas, for Monsieur keeps his mouth shut. The upshot of
the matter was that Grammont goes at Lucas with a knife, and Monsieur
has the guards pitch my gentleman into the street. Then M. le Comte
swore a big oath that he would go with Grammont. Monsieur told him if he
went in such company it would be forever. M. le Comte swore he would
never come back under his father's roof if M. le Duc crawled to him on
his knees to beg him."

"Ah!" I cried; "and then?"

"Marry, that's all. M. le Comte went straight out of this gate, without
horse or squire. And we have not heard a word of either of them since."

He paused, and when I made no comment, said, a trifle aggrieved:

"Eh bien, you take it calmly, but you would not had you been here. It
was an altogether lively affair. It wouldn't surprise me a whit if some
day Monsieur should be attacked as he drives out. He's not one to forget
an injury, this M. Gervais de Grammont."

At the name, intelligence flashed over me, sudden and clear as last
night's lightning-gleam. Yet this thing I seemed to see was so hideous,
so horrible, that my mind recoiled from it.

"Marcel," I stammered, shuddering, "Marcel--"

"Mordieu! what ails you? Is some o