"I know it, monseigneur."
"And that did not stop you!—What motive had you, grave enough to induce you to defy the law?—Come, speak, chevalier. I thought that you were a friend to Comte Léodgard; you were his child's godfather, I believe."
"I acted in place of the old Marquis de Marvejols—that is true."
"You take a deep interest in the young countess—and you fight with her husband!—What was the cause of this duel?"
Jarnonville, who did not lie readily, especially when it was necessary to invent a long story, was considerably embarrassed beneath Richelieu's piercing gaze, and faltered:
"Sometimes, monseigneur, between two persons who meet often, a word too lightly spoken is enough.—Comte Léodgard is quick to take offence—and—and I myself lose my head sometimes."
While Jarnonville was seeking his phrases, the cardinal, who was watching him closely, glanced at the short, broad sword that hung at his belt. He frowned, and said, interrupting him:
"You have a peculiar sword there, chevalier?"
"This sword—ah, yes! I do not—er—wear it usually."
"I think not, for I have never seen it upon you. Whence have you it?"