"No! I am not mistaken," replied the elf.
"Really?" said La Flèche. "If you are quite sure, speak, she-devil! So you think that this noble lord here present has some insult to avenge?"
"In blood!" replied Pilar, with the energy of a tragic actress.
"Alas!" said the marquis to Lauriane under his breath, "that is only too true, I doubt not! My poor brother, you know!" And he added, aloud: "I wish to question this little soothsayer myself."
"Do so, monseigneur," said La Flèche. "Listen, black fly! and speak truly to a gentleman who is of much more consequence than you!"
Thereupon, the marquis, turning to Pilar, questioned her gently:
"Tell me, my poor little girl, what I have lost?"
"A son!" she replied.
"Don't laugh, neighbor," said the marquis to De Beuvre, "she tells the truth. He was like a son to me!"
And to Pilar: