"Eugene de Ribeaupierre—sous-lieutenant of the 24th Chasseurs à Cheval," said Conyers, consulting an embossed calling-card.
"Is it he whose name occurs so frequently in the declaration of the prisoner?"
"Most probably, sir."
"Admit him."
The clank of a sabre and the jingle of steel spurs were heard, and then Eugene de Ribeaupierre, looking handsome and gay, but flushed after a long ride from Fonteveros, entered, helmet in hand, and bowed low to the Court and all who were present.
"Ha, mon ami!" said he, shaking Quentin's hand with warmth, "I am come in time, I hope; the proceedings are not yet closed, monsieur?" he asked anxiously of the president.
"No—but how did you come to hear of them?" was the suspicious question.
"From Ramon Campillo, a muleteer of Miranda del Ebro; the same person who conveyed M. Kennedy from the Villa de Maciera to Portalegre, and who was passing through our camp this morning. He came expressly to my tent to tell me all about it, and that charges were to be made which I alone could refute. I reported the affair to my father, the General, who generously gave me leave to come here, with an escort—so I have come, messieurs, to be sworn and examined."
"Askerne," whispered Monkton, "you are a rare fellow!"
"How, Willie?"