alls himself? This demands an immediate explanation from you,
Monsieur de Leviston."

"I object to sit at a table with a person who does not know who his
mother was." Each word was deliberately and carefully measured.

"Death of my life!" roared the governor, upon his feet.

The Chevalier reached over and caught De Lauson's sleeve. "Hush,
Monsieur; what Monsieur de Leviston says is . . . true." He got up,
white as the broken pipe that lay at the side of his plate. Under the
chair was his hat. He reached for it. Looking neither to the right
nor to the left, he walked quietly and with dignity from the room.

There was a single laugh, rude and loud. It came from D'Herouville.

The general silence which followed lasted several minutes. The
Chevalier's declaration had stunned them. The governor was first to
recover. He rose again, quietly, though his eyes sparkled with anger.

"Monsieur de Leviston," he said, "you have wilfully broken and
destroyed the peace and dignity of my household. I shall cross you
from my list, and the sooner you return to Montreal, the better. Your
peculiar sense of honor in no wise appeals to me. It is an ignoble
revenge; for do not doubt that I know your own history, Monsieur, and
also the part the Chevalier had in it. But believing you had come to
this country to repair your honor, I have assisted you by inviting you
to partake of my bounty and of my friendship."

De Leviston paled, and turned a scowling face to those about him. He
found no sympathy in any eye, not even in D'Herouville's.

"You have wounded brutally and with intent," went on the governor, "the
heart of a man who has not only proved himself a gentleman, but a hero.
And I add this: Let no one repeat what has happened, or he shall feel
the weight of my displeasure, and my displeasure will mean much to
promotion and liberty." He pushed his chair under the table, which
signified that he was to retire.

The gentlemen left the table with him.

Outside, Victor approached D'Herouville, ignoring De Leviston. The
vicomte followed in the rear.

"Monsieur d'Herouville, you have a bad heart," said the poet. "You
have laughed insolently at a man whose misfortune is none of his own
making. You are a poltroon and a coward!"

The vicomte interposed. "D'Herouville, listen to me. After what has
happened you will refuse to meet the Chevalier."

"I certainly shall."

"I am at your service," said the vicomte.

"D'