"Why, sir, just the first that came into my head. I said to the gentleman—to M. de Fontelles, as I understand him to be called—I said to him softly and gently—Je viens, tu viens——"
The Duke seized me by the arm, with a sudden air of excitement. Carford stepped forward and stood beside him.
"Je viens, tu viens.... Yes! And any more?" cried the Duke.
"Yes, your Grace," I answered, again amazed. "I completed what grammarians call the Singular Number by adding 'Il vient;' whereupon—but I have told you."
"Il vient?" cried the Duke and Carford all in a breath.
"Il vient," I repeated, thinking now that all the three had run mad. Carford screened his mouth with his hand and whispered in the Duke's ear. The Duke nodded and made some answer. Both seemed infinitely stirred and interested. M. de Fontelles had stood in sullen silence by the table while I told the story of our quarrel; now his eyes were fixed intently on the Duke's face.
"But why," said I, "that simple phrase worked such strange agitation in the gentleman, your Grace's wisdom may discover. I am at a loss."
Still Carford whispered, and presently the Duke said,
"Come, gentlemen, you've fallen into a foolish quarrel where no quarrel need have come. Pray be friends again."
M. de Fontelles drew himself up stiffly.