"Ah! is it you, Monsieur le Duc?" said Nanon, supporting herself on her elbow and seizing his arm.
"Yes, it is I; and I am very glad that you recognize me, for that proves that you are getting better. But of whom were you speaking?"
"Of him, Monsieur le Duc, of him!" cried Nanon; "you have killed him! Oh, the poor, poor boy!."
"Dear heart, you frighten me! what do you mean?"
"I mean that you have killed him. Do you not understand, Monsieur le Duc?"
"No, my dear," replied D'Épernon, trying to induce Nanon to speak by entering into the ideas her delirium suggested to her; "how can I have killed him, when I do not know him?"
"Do you not know that he is a prisoner of war, that he was a captain, that he was commandant of a fortress, that he had the same titles and the same rank as this unhappy Richon, and that the Bordelais will avenge upon him the murder of the man whose murder you were responsible for? For it's of no use for you to pretend that it was done according to law, Monsieur le Duc; it was a downright murder!"
The duke, completely unhorsed by this apostrophe, by the fire of her flashing eyes, and by her nervous, energetic gestures, turned pale, and beat his breast.
"Oh! 't is true!" he cried, "'t is true! poor Canolles! I had forgotten him!"
"My poor brother! my poor brother!" cried Nanon, happy to be at liberty to give vent to her emotion, and bestowing upon her lover the title under which Monsieur d'Épernon knew him.