"Can such a thing have happened?" said the chief of police, apparently less concerned than the king, but in reality more so.
"I saw a man spring on my brother," said Chon, "force him to draw his sword and cut him grievously."
"Was the ruffian alone?"
"He had half a dozen bullies with him."
"Poor viscount forced to fight," sighed the monarch, trying to regulate the amount of his grief by the countess'; but he saw that she was not pretending.
"And wounded?" he went on, in a heartbroken tone.
"But what was the scuffle about?" asked the police lieutenant, trying to see into the affair.
"Most frivolous; about posthorses, disputed for with the viscount, who was in a hurry to help me home to my sister, whom I had promised to join this morning."
"This requires retaliation, eh, Sartines?" said the king.
"It looks so, but I will inquire into it. The aggressor's name and rank?"