“What the devil do you imply, Andre? Should I say a thing that I don’t believe? You begin to make me angry.”
“‘Thou shalt not kill,’ is the King’s law as well as God’s.”
“You are determined to quarrel with me, I think. It was a duel...”
Andre-Louis interrupted him. “It is no more a duel than if it had been fought with pistols of which only M. le Marquis’s was loaded. He invited Philippe to discuss the matter further, with the deliberate intent of forcing a quarrel upon him and killing him. Be patient with me, monsieur my god-father. I am not telling you of what I imagine but what M. le Marquis himself admitted to me.”
Dominated a little by the young man’s earnestness, M. de Kercadiou’s pale eyes fell away. He turned with a shrug, and sauntered over to the window.
“It would need a court of honour to decide such an issue. And we have no courts of honour,” he said.
“But we have courts of justice.”
With returning testiness the seigneur swung round to face him again. “And what court of justice, do you think, would listen to such a plea as you appear to have in mind?”
“There is the court of the King’s Lieutenant at Rennes.”
“And do you think the King’s Lieutenant would listen to you?”