“I have seen but little of him; but I have indeed found him blunt in speaking of facts,” was the cautious reply, drily spoken. A footstep on the terrace disturbed them. It was Pascal. “I was seeking you, monsieur, to know if you have any other commands for me,” he said aloud in a respectful tone, adding in a whisper, as they stood apart: “I must speak to you at once. There’s a devil of a mess.” “Wait but a minute,” whispered Gerard; and then aloud: “I will you see directly, good Pascal. It is my faithful fellow in some trouble about me, Gabrielle.” “Then let us go in. Ah, here is Lucette,” she added, as Lucette, looking very troubled, came out of the maison. “How is Denys, Lucette?” “He was better for some time, but the fever seems to have come back upon him. The surgeon has seen him again, and given him a potion, and he is now asleep.” “He should be carefully watched all night, never left for a moment,” declared Gerard quickly, remembering de Proballe’s threatening words. “You will see to this, mademoiselle.” “The surgeon says he will sleep until the morning, and will need no more till then,” answered Lucette. “Let him be watched. At need I, or Pascal here, will remain by his bedside.” “By your leave, monsieur, that were not well;” and Lucette spoke so sharply that all looked at her. “What mean you, Lucette?” asked Gabrielle. “Denys has, for causes that may be plain afterward, conceived a violent dislike toward Monsieur de Cobalt; and if he woke and found him by the bedside, it might be very ill indeed.” “But I have never set eyes on him until to-day, mademoiselle.” “It is probably no more than a sick man’s fancy,” said Gabrielle. “It may be so; yet it is very strong upon him, and he talks wildly and almost at random.” “I fear his wound is more serious than you deemed, Gerard,” declared Gabrielle. “It is the more reason for what I have urged--that he be watched closely and never left. His life itself may hang upon it.” “I will see that it is done,” agreed Gabrielle readily. “That what is done?” It was de Proballe who asked the question, coming out of the house in time to catch the last words. “My poor Denys is very ill, it seems, uncle, and Gerard has just been saying that he should be watched ceaselessly.” “Poor fellow,” he replied in a compassionate tone; and then with an upcast glance at Gerard he asked: “And why do you think he should be watched so closely?” “I have had some skill in sword-wounds, monsieur, and Mademoiselle Lucette here says he has been talking wildly. When delirium follows such a wound as his there is every need for care.” It was an adroit answer, for it satisfied de Proballe and also bore out what he had said before. But Lucette’s eyes were very keen, and knowing all she did, she was watching closely enough to catch de Proballe’s glance of meaning as he answered--