“Because, Monsieur, because—excuse me—I——”
“Zounds! will you speak, or will you not?”
Chupin regretted that he had gone so far.
“Because the marquis——”
“Well?”
“He is engaged in it.”
The duke overturned the table with a terrible blow of his clinched fist.
“You lie, wretch!” he thundered, with the most horrible oaths.
He was so formidable in his anger that the old poacher sprang to the door and turned the knob, ready to take flight.
“May I lose my head if I do not speak the truth,” he insisted. “Ah! Lacheneur’s daughter is a regular sorceress. All the gallants of the neighborhood are in the ranks; Chanlouineau, young d’Escorval, your son——”