With a gesture, he interrupted her. “We must not lose time in discussion—listen to me. Of itself, this letter might be unimportant, but I have arranged matters in such a way that it will produce a powerful effect. I declared before the commission that the Marquis de Sairmeuse was one of the leaders of the movement. They laughed; and I read incredulity on all the judges’ faces. But calumny is never without its effect. When the Duke de Sairmeuse is about to receive a reward for his services, there will be enemies in plenty to remember and repeat my words. He knew this so well that he was greatly agitated, even while his colleagues sneered at my accusation.”
“It’s a great crime to charge a man falsely,” murmured Marie-Anne, with simple honesty. “No doubt,” rejoined Chanlouineau, “but I wish to save the baron, and I cannot choose my means. As I knew that the marquis had been wounded, I declared that he was fighting against the troops by my side and asked that he should be summoned before the tribunal; swearing that I had in my possession unquestionable proofs of his complicity.”
“Did you say that the Marquis de Sairmeuse had been wounded?” inquired Marie-Anne.
Chanlouineau’s face wore a look of intense astonishment. “What!” he exclaimed, “don’t you know——?” Then after an instant’s reflection: “Fool that I am!” he resumed. “After all who could have told you what happened? However, you remember that while we were on our way to the Croix-d’Arcy, after your father had rode on in advance, Maurice placed himself at the head of one division, and you walked beside him, while your brother Jean and myself stayed behind to urge the laggards forward. We were performing our duty conscientiously enough, when suddenly we heard the gallop of a horse behind us. ‘We must know who is coming,’ said Jean to me. So we paused. The horse soon reached us; we caught the bridle and held him. Can you guess who the rider was? Why, Martial de Sairmeuse. It would be impossible to describe your brother’s fury when he recognized the marquis. ‘At last I find you, you wretched noble!’ he exclaimed, ‘and now we will settle our account! After reducing my father, who had just given you a fortune, to despair and penury, you tried to degrade my sister. I will have my revenge! Down, we must fight!’ ”
Marie-Anne could scarcely tell whether she was awake or dreaming. “What, my brother challenged the marquis!” she murmured, “Is it possible?”
“Brave as the marquis may be,” pursued Chanlouineau, “he did not seem inclined to accept the invitation. He stammered out something like this: ‘You are mad—you are jesting—haven’t we always been friends? What does all this mean?’ Jean ground his teeth in rage. ‘This means that we have endured your insulting familiarity long enough,’ he replied, ‘and if you don’t dismount and fight me fairly, I will blow your brains out!’ Your brother, as he spoke, manipulated his pistol in so threatening a manner that the marquis jumped off his horse and addressing me: ‘You see, Chanlouineau,’ he said, ‘I must fight a duel or submit to murder. If Jean kills me there is no more to be said—but if I kill him, what is to be done?’ I told him he would be free to go off unmolested on condition he gave me his word not to proceed to Montaignac before two o’clock. ‘Then I accept the challenge,’ said he, ‘give me a weapon.’ I gave him my sword, your brother drew his, and they took their places in the middle of the highway.”
The young farmer paused to take breath, and then more slowly he resumed: “Marie-Anne, your father and I misjudged your brother. Poor Jean’s appearance is terribly against him. His face indicates a treacherous, cowardly nature, his smile is cunning, and his eyes always shun yours. We distrusted him, but we should ask his forgiveness for having done so. A man who fights as I saw him fight, deserves all our confidence. For this combat in the road, and in the darkness, was terrible. They attacked each other furiously, and at last Jean fell.”
“Ah! my brother is dead!” exclaimed Marie Anne.
“No,” promptly replied Chanlouineau; “at least I have reason to hope not; and I know he has been well cared for. The duel had another witness, a man named Poignot, whom you must remember as he was one of your father’s tenants. He took Jean away with him, and promised me that he would conceal him and care for him. As for the marquis, he showed me that he was wounded as well, and then he remounted his horse, saying: ‘What could I do? He would have it so.’ ”
Marie-Anne now understood everything. “Give me the letter,” she said to Chanlouineau, “I will go to the duke. I will find some way of reaching him, and then God will guide me in the right course to pursue.”