id, "Very well;" but secretly, he exclaimed:
"Abominable impertinence! What! I am on horseback at the head of my
troops, my life imperilled, and my son goes quietly to bed without even
assuring himself of my safety!"

He reached his son's room, but found the door closed and locked on the
inside. He rapped.

"Who is there?" demanded Martial.

"It is I; open the door."

Martial drew the bolt; M. de Sairmeuse entered, but the sight that met
his gaze made him tremble.

Upon the table was a basin of blood, and Martial, with chest bared, was
bathing a large wound in his right breast.

"You have been fighting!" exclaimed the duke, in a husky voice.

"Yes."

"Ah! then you were, indeed----"

"I was where? what?"

"At the convocation of these miserable peasants who, in their parricidal
folly, have dared to dream of the overthrow of the best of princes!"

Martial's face betrayed successively profound surprise, and a more
violent desire to laugh.

"I think you must be jesting, Monsieur," he replied.

The young man's words and manner reassured the duke a little, without
entirely dissipating his suspicions.

"Then, these vile rascals attacked you?" he exclaimed.

"Not at all. I have been simply obliged to fight a duel."

"With whom? Name the scoundrel who has dared to insult you!"

A faint flush tinged Martial's cheek; but it was in his usual careless
tone that he replied:

"Upon my word, no; I shall not give his name. You would trouble him,
perhaps; and I really owe the fellow a debt of gratitude. It happened
upon the highway; he might have assassinated me without ceremony, but he
offered me open combat. Besides, he was wounded far more severely than
I."

All M. de Sairmeuse's doubts had returned.

"And why, instead of summoning a physician, are you attempting to dress
this wound yourself?"

"Because it is a mere trifle, and because I wish to keep it a secret."

The duke shook his head.

"All this is scarcely plausible," he remarked, "especially after the
assurance of your complicity, which I have received."

"Ah!" said he; "and from whom? From your spy-in-chief, no doubt--that
rascal Chupin. It surprises me to see that you can hesitate for a moment
between the word of your son and the stories of such a wretch."

"Do not speak ill of Chupin, Marquis; he is a very useful man. Had it
not been for him, we should have been taken unawares. It was through him
that I learned of this vast conspiracy organize