"Monsieur," Léodgard replied, struggling to surmount his suffering, "I should comply with monsieur le cardinal's wish with the greatest zeal, but it is impossible at this moment; I cannot move—I am wounded!"
"Wounded!" exclaimed the officer; and his expression lost all its amenity; "oho! you are wounded, are you, monsieur le comte? And since when?"
"Since yesterday, monsieur."
"Since yesterday? May I inquire how you received this wound?"
"Under any other circumstances, I should refuse to reply, monsieur; but, after the circulation of such rumors, I realize that it is my duty to speak. I fought a duel yesterday, with pistols, in Vincennes Forest.—I know the severity of the laws concerning duels, and I desired to keep this secret, to conceal my wound. I waited until night before returning here."
"Very good, monsieur le comte; pardon me if I ask you a few questions. With whom did you fight?"
"Monsieur, I have delivered myself over to the cardinal's wrath, but I will not denounce my opponent."
"The names of your seconds at least, monsieur le comte?"
Léodgard let his head fall back; his strength seemed to abandon him, and he made no reply. Thereupon Jarnonville rose and placed himself in front of the officer.
"Cease tormenting the Comte de Marvejols, monsieur; he is suffering quite enough with his wound. You wish to know with whom he fought? Well, it was with me. Yes, monsieur, we quarrelled yesterday for a trivial cause; being both too hot-headed to wait until the next day, we went to Vincennes, and there, with no other witness than the sky, we fired at each other. I had the misfortune to wound the count severely in the shoulder. We became friends once more as soon as blood flowed, and we waited until it was very late before returning to Paris. This morning I had just come to inquire for my adversary when you appeared.—Now you know all, monsieur."