“You did, indeed, bring the ropes by which he was to make his escape, but they had been previously cut, and my father was precipitated to the rocks below.
“You have forfeited your honor, Monsieur. You have soiled your name with ineffaceable opprobrium. While so much as a drop of blood remains in my veins, I will leave no means untried to punish you for your cowardice and vile treason.
“By killing me you would, it is true, escape the chastisement I am reserving for you. Consent to fight with me. Shall I await you to-morrow on the Reche? At what hour? With what weapons?
“If you are the vilest of men, you can appoint a rendezvous, and then send your gendarmes to arrest me. That would be an act worthy of you.
“Maurice d’Escorval.”
The duke was in despair. He saw the secret of the baron’s flight made public—his political prospects ruined.
“Hush!” he said, hurriedly, and in a low voice; “hush, wretched man, you will ruin us!”
But Martial seemed not even to hear him. When he had finished his reading:
“Now, what do you think?” he demanded, looking the Marquis de Courtornieu full in the face.
“I am still unable to comprehend,” said the old nobleman, coldly.