“And he is a soldier?”
“He is only an humble corporal; but the nobility of his nature entitles him to the highest rank. Believe me, we can safely confide in him.”
If she spoke thus, she who would willingly have given her life for the baron’s salvation, she must be absolutely certain.
So thought Martial.
“I will confer with this man,” said he. “What is his name?”
“He is called Bavois, and he is a corporal in the first company of grenadiers.”
“Bavois,” repeated Martial, as if to fix the name in his memory; “Bavois. My father will find some pretext for desiring him summoned.”
“It is easy to find a pretext. He was the brave soldier left on guard at Escorval after the troops left the house.”
“This promises well,” said Martial. He had risen and gone to the fireplace in order to be nearer his father.
“I suppose,” he continued, “the baron has been separated from the other prisoners?”