"
It was only when the marquis was leaving the hall that the governor
noticed the basket-hilt of the old man's dueling sword. Its formidable
length disquieted his Excellency more than he would have liked to
confess.
It was early moonlight, and the parade ground was empty and ghostly.
The marquis glanced about. He discovered D'Herouville leaning against
a cannon, contemplating the escarps and bastions of the citadel. The
marquis went forward, striking his heels soundly. D'Herouville roused
himself and turned round.
"You are Monsieur le Comte d'Herouville," began the marquis, abruptly.
"I am," peering into the marquis's face, and stepping back in surprise.
"You come, I believe, from an ancient and notable house."
"Almost as notable as yours, Monsieur le Marquis," bowing in his
wonder, though this wonder was not wholly free from suspicion.
"Almost, but not quite," added the marquis. "The House of Perigny was
established some hundred and fifty years before royalty gave you a
patent. Your grandsire and your father were brave men."
"So history writes it," his puzzlement still growing.
"I wish a few words with you in private.
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