Lucilio relieved the marquis of his cloak, his helmet and his arms, and when they had ascended the stairs they found Mario, barefooted, at the door of his chamber.
"Ah!" cried the child, clinging passionately to his uncle's long legs, and speaking to him with the familiarity which he did not as yet know to be contrary to the customs of the nobility, "so you have come back at last? You are not hurt, my dear uncle? No one has hurt you, eh? I thought that that wicked man meant to kill you, and I wanted to run after you! I was very unhappy! Another time, when you go out to fight, you must take me, since I am your nephew."
"My nephew! my nephew! that is not enough," said the marquis taking him back to his bed. "I mean to be your father. Will that displease you, to be my son? And, by the way," he added, stooping to receive little Fleurial's caresses, who seemed to have realized and shared the distress of Jovelin and Mario, "here is a little friend of mine who no longer belongs to me. Here, Mario, you were so anxious to have him! I give him to you to console you for your unhappiness this evening."
"Yes," said Mario, putting Fleurial beside him on his pillow, "I consent, on condition that he is to belong to us both, and is to love us both alike. But tell me, father, has the wicked man gone away forever?"
"Yes, my son, forever."
"And the king will punish him for killing your brother?"
"Yes, my son, he will be punished."
"What will they do to him?" inquired Mario, thoughtfully.
"I will tell you later, my son. Think only how happy we are to be together."
"They will never take me away from you?"