made a gesture towards the wounded arm; but
Simon snarled at him:

"Don't touch it, fool! Ugh! how it stings! There is one consolation,
however--that he must be squirming himself with pain now."

"Eh! Then you touched him?"

"Twice, Trotto, twice!"

"Ah! that accounts for his wearing his cloak so tightly over his left
shoulder."

Simon started: "Wearing his cloak so tightly! Have you seen him?"

Torquato nodded, and the Vidame went on impatiently: "Are you dreaming,
or am I? You have not been out of the house."

"But, excellency, benighted travellers might seek the house for rest
and a guide to the ford of the Mable." At these words a red flush came
over Simon's face, and he half rose from his chair.

"Here, here!" he exclaimed, his voice almost cracking with
excitement--"here!--in Le Jaquemart! My sword, Trotto--quick!" And he
shivered with pain as he attempted to stand; but Torquato made him sit
back, and when he had succeeded told him what is already known.

"And so," he concluded, "Malsain has by this time disposed of the
lackey, and La Marmotte is keeping the other birds amused until my
return. When it is all settled," and Trotto laughed, "your excellency
may make ready for the wedding, and La Marmotte will make a rare
bridesmaid." With these words he bowed, and went to the door, but
stopped at Simon's voice.

"Trotto!"

"Excellency!"

"Be sure, and fail not!"

"With a wounded man? Be happy, excellency! 'Twill be all over by
midnight. I will have it done before Aramon returns, to save sharing
the crowns. Good-night."

"Trotto!"

The captain put his head back through the door, and Simon said:

"Call me when 'tis over. I would see the carrion ere we put it away."

Trotto nodded, and closing the door left Simon of Orrain, full of
stinging pains in his body and burning evil thoughts in his soul, and
returning to us led the way to the supper-table. There, whilst we sat,
mademoiselle told them of her peril, and how she was rescued, and as
she concluded Trotto set down the cup of wine he was tasting, and
turning to me, said:

"I congratulate you, monsieur. I trust, however, that your wounds do
not hurt you?"

"Wounds!" exclaimed mademoiselle. "You are hurt, and you have said
never a word! Why did you not tell me? You must have them seen to at
once." And she rose from her seat. La Marmotte following her example,
and Trotto added his voice to hers, and was thanked with a look.