"Truly," said he at last, "I could hardly have believed it possible. Who would have thought of seeing you here, Colonel de Beaujardin—and in such a disguise too!" he added, with a searching and somewhat suspicious glance at Isidore's costume, which had little of the soldier about it.
"I do not call myself Colonel de Beaujardin now," replied Isidore, bitterly, "but Claude Breton, general, at your service."
"Breton—Breton!" exclaimed the marquis, considering for a moment. "It was reported to me, I recollect, that a Canadian called Breton showed great courage and coolness in a little affair of outposts a few days since. Was it you?"
Isidore bowed slightly, but made no other answer.
Montcalm was silent for a minute or so, and fidgeted with his sword-knot, though he kept his eyes intently fixed on his quondam aide-de-camp.
"Monsieur de Beaujardin," said he at length, with his usual rapidity of utterance, "I believe you know as well as any one that I have always held that men seldom lose caste and come down in the world without some fault of their own. I should be sorry indeed to think this is the case with you, but you beyond all other men had at your command everything that could ensure an honourable and even brilliant career. What can have brought you to this?"
"No fault of mine, sir," replied Isidore, proudly. "I have been the victim of circumstances which it was beyond my power to control."
"Beyond your power! What! with a father in the position of the marquis to assist you?" rejoined Montcalm. "There is no man whom I would more willingly believe, or more willingly assist, but——"
"General Montcalm will have the goodness to remember that I have neither sought nor solicited his assistance," answered Isidore, haughtily.
"I do not forget it, sir," was the reply, "indeed it is that which justifies my doubts. I, at all events, am not changed, and if Monsieur de Beaujardin has nothing to reproach himself with, he may without scruple claim both sympathy and assistance from me."