"You speak roughly, Marquis de Pontcalec," replied the chevalier.
"If I command, it is because I have the right to do so. Am I, or am I not, your chief?"
"Certainly you are; but that is no reason for forgetting the consideration which one gentleman owes to another."
"Monsieur de Chanlay, all these objections seem to me like shuffling. You have sworn to obey—do so now."
"I swore to obey," replied the chevalier, "but not as a servant."
"You swore to obey as a slave. Obey, then, or submit to the consequences of your disobedience!"
"Monsieur le Marquis—!"
"My dear Gaston," cried Montlouis, "speak, I beg, as soon as possible: by a word you can remove all suspicion."
"Suspicion!" cried Gaston, pale with anger, "am I suspected, then?"
"Certainly you are," said Pontcalec, with his ordinary roughness. "Do you think if we did not suspect you we should amuse ourselves by following you on such a night as this?"