He certainly abominated the countess; but his respect for her noble blood was greater than his resentment toward her individually, and he added:
“Nevertheless, Gaston, you did your duty.”
Meanwhile, the curiosity of St. Jean, the marquis’s old valet, made him venture to open the door, and ask:
“Did M. the marquis ring?”
“No, you rascal,” answered M. de Clameran: “you know very well I did not. But, now you are here, be useful. Quickly bring some clothes for M. Gaston, some fresh linen, and some warm water: hasten and dress his wounds.”
These orders were promptly executed, and Gaston found he was not so badly hurt as he had thought. With the exception of a deep stab in his left shoulder, his wounds were not serious.
After receiving all the attentions which his condition required, Gaston felt like a new man, ready to brave any peril. His eyes sparkled with renewed energy and excitement.
The marquis made a sign to the servants to leave the room.
“Do you still think you ought to leave France?” he asked Gaston.
“Yes, father.”