"Yes, I was there, and remember you——"
siege? Why, what is your age?"
"Oh, I am no particular age," replied the guest, holding up his glass to be filled by Andrea's fair hand.
The host interpreted that his guest did not care to tell his years.
"My lord, allow me to say that you do not seem to have been a soldier, then, as it is twenty-eight years ago, and you are hardly over thirty."
Andrea regarded the stranger with the steadfastness of deep curiosity; he came out in a different light every instant.
"I know what I am talking about the famous siege, where the Duke of Richelieu killed in a duel his cousin the Prince of Lixen. The encounter came off on the highway, by my fay! on our return from the outposts; on the embankment, to the left, he ran him through the body. I came up as Prince Deux-ponts held the dying man in his arms. He was seated on the ditch bank, while Richelieu tranquilly wiped his steel."
"On my honor, my lord, you astound me. Things passed as you describe."