"I fear not. The animal started too near the centre of the glade, and luckily for him made straight for you."
"We have not seen him, either," was the cool rejoinder.
"But I saw him," exclaimed Tournay with open-eyed astonishment.
"Up in the thicket beyond? Possibly," admitted the marquis, who had now regained his self-possession and had resolved to put the best possible face on the matter.
"No! Right here in the open, as he ran into that clump of beeches."
"You are mistaken. I did not see him," the marquis insisted, approaching his horse and untethering him.
"Monsieur le marquis was possibly not looking in the right direction."
De Lacheville mounted his horse. He bent down from the saddle, saying fiercely, "Twice this day you have ventured to oppose me. Have a care! You will rue the hour when you dispute any statement of mine."
Tournay looked up at him defiantly, and with a significance too deep to be misconstrued, said: "I will not lie at your bidding, Monsieur de Lacheville."
"You insolent villain!" and the marquis' whip fell viciously across the defiant brow. The next instant the nobleman was dragged from the saddle and his riderless horse galloped off through the woods.