"No, no, madame; but Monsieur le Prun likes a jest at my expense."
"Not at all," said Le Prun, laughing; "I protest D'Artois, his colonel, vows he has not seen him for six months at least."
"They are in a conspiracy to quiz me."
"Then you were at Avignon?"
"No such thing, I tell you; the fellow was about some mischief—ha! ha! ha!"
"He is resolved to laugh at me."
"Yes, yes, I say he is a mischievous fellow—the most dangerous dog in France; and so shy that, by my word, it requires a shrewd fellow like myself to discover his rogueries."
"And so he deserves not only all my sins, but a great deal more."
"Stay—here is the Visconte de Charrebourg. Visconte, this is the Marquis de Secqville, my future nephew."
The old visconte looked closely and dubiously for a moment in the young man's face. The marquis, on the contrary, seemed to have some little difficulty in suppressing a smile.