But Jehan only shook his head and looked puzzled. At last, being pressed, he said, "At Bault, in Perigord."
"There is no such place!" M. de Bresly cried roundly.
Father Bernard looked distressed. He began to repent that he had led the child to tell the tale; he began to fear that it might hurt instead of helping. Perhaps after all he had been too credulous. But again the Cardinal came to the rescue.
"Is there any family in Perigord can boast of three marshals, M. de Bresly?" he asked, in his thin incisive tones.
"None that I know of. Several that can boast of two."
"The blood of Roland?"
M. de Bresly shrugged his shoulders. "It is common to all of us," he said, smiling.
The great Cardinal smiled, too--a flickering, quickly-passing smile. Then he leaned forward and fixed the boy with his fierce black eyes. "What was your father's name?" he said.
Jehan shook his head, impotently, miserably.
"Where did you live?"