“If betraying his country is a fashionable virtue,” replied the valet. “He is a traitor.”
Incredulity overspread the land baron’s features; then, coincident with the assertion, came remembrance of his conversation with the marquis.
“He certainly called him that,” ruminated the visitor. Not only the words, but the expression of the old nobleman’s face recurred to him. What did it mean unless it confirmed the deliberate charge of the valet? The land baron forgot his disappointment over his inability to see the marquis, and began to look with more favor on the man.
“He surrendered a French stronghold,” continued 284 the servant, softly. “Not through fear; oh, no; but for ambition, power, under Abd-el-Kader, the Moorish leader.”
“How do you know this?” said the patroon, sharply.
“My master has the report of the military board of inquiry,” replied the man, steadily.
“Why has the matter attracted no public attention, if a board of inquiry was appointed?”
“The board was a secret one, and the report was suppressed. Few have seen it, except the late King of France and my master.”
“And yourself, François?” said the patroon, his manner changing.
“Oh, Monsieur!” Deprecatorily.