"He said he came forth at the cries," answered the servant.
"How long may it take to arm a man completely, except the head?" asked the young gentleman.
"I don't know," answered the servant; "I don't bear arms."
"I do," answered Jean Charost; "and so do these noble lords; nor is it probable that a man could shuffle on his armor in time to be there on the spot so soon, unless he were well armed before. Now tell me, what was this man's name?"
The man hesitated; but the Duke of Berri thundered from the head of the table, "Answer at once, sir. You have said he was a gentleman of good repute; you must therefore know him. What was his name?"
"William of Courthose," answered the man; "the brother of the king's valet de chambre."
"Where is he?" asked the Duke of Berri, so sternly, that the man became more and more alarmed, judging that his stupid activity might not prove so honorable to himself as he had expected.
"I do not know rightly, your highness," he replied. "His brother told me to-day he had gone to Artois."
There was a silence all through the room at this announcement. Jean Charost asked no more questions. Several of the council looked meaningly in each other's faces, and the Duke of Berri gazed thoughtfully down at the table.
The chaplain of the late Duke of Orleans, however, and Seigneur André, his fool, moved round and got behind the prince's chair.