"When?"
"To-morrow, immediately after the fête. The Inn has been closed since this morning so as to receive no one except ourselves and our witnesses. Now, my dear Maurice, since you know, I want to ask you a favour. Here are some papers that I wrote last night. I am afraid my servant is on intimate terms with Mme. de Morgueil's English maid, and I dare not leave them in my room. I put them in your care. If luck is against me you will give these to the proper persons. If Count Albert is unfortunate, you will give me back the envelope. I'll see you later!"
He pressed the young man's hand in a close grasp.
The Duke de Castel-Montjoie, the Dowager's only son, had been chosen by the seconds as umpire. De Morlay and Styvens approved the choice.
The great hall had been invaded by a score of servants who arranged the chairs, placed the palms, and hung silver chains to separate the musicians from the audience. The curtain of the little stage was lowered, but a murmur could be heard through the pretty drop painted by Maurice. Among the servants set to finish the costumes was the Duke's sly goddaughter. Every time the Duke passed she gazed at him and her lips trembled. She who was usually so pert and smiling worked with set lips.
"Ha, ha!" said one of the maids, "you must be in love, eh, Jeanette?"
"Let me alone, stupid, to do my work," said the young girl with tears in her eyes.
She had been waked the night before by the noise of opening doors, she had got up and seen her godfather talking to her father. The Duke said, "You must close your Inn early as possible, you must refuse everybody, except the Doctor from the Château, Count Styvens and four gentlemen with the Duke of Castel-Montjoie. I shall probably get here first."
"Ah! my God," the Innkeeper had murmured, "the Duke is going to fight,
I know that…. If only nothing happens to you, sir."
"I need not say that I count on your discretion as on your devotion. Have your best bedroom ready to receive one or the other of the adversaries and put yourself at the absolute command of the Duke de Castel-Montjoie. Au revoir. Try not to let your daughter know anything about this, and say nothing to her; but I know that even if she discovered she would not give us away. Au revoir!"