"Then M. Réné put his hand on his sword, and said, still very quietly, ’You have been misinformed; it is a question of my marriage.’ Charles said that M. de Brézé was flushed with wine, or he would not have laughed as he did then. Well, well, well, it’s a great many years ago, but it was a pity, a sad pity. M. de Brézé was the better swordsman, and he ran M. Réné through the body." "And he died?" said Aline. "Not then; no, not then. It would have been better like that—yes, much better." "Oh, what happened?" "Charles heard it all. The surgeon attended to the wound, and said that with care it would do well, only there must be perfect quiet, perfect rest. With his own ears he heard that said, and the old Marquise went straight from the surgeon to M. Réné’s bedside, and sat down, and took his hand. Charles was in the next room, but the door was ajar, and he could hear and see. "’Réné, my son,’ she said, ’I hear your duel was about Ange Desaix.’ M. Réné said, ’Yes, ma mere.’ Then she said very scornfully, ’I have undoubtedly been misinformed, for I was told that you fought because—but no, it is too absurd.’ "M. Réné moved his hand. He was all strapped up, but his hand could move, and he jerked it, thus, to stop his mother; and she stopped and looked at him. Then he said, ’I fought M. de Brézé because he spoke disrespectfully of my future wife.’ Yes, just like that he said it; and what it must have been to Madame to hear it, Lucifer alone knows, for her pride was like his. There was a long silence, and they looked hard at each other, and then Madame said, ’No!’—only that, but Charles said her face was dreadful, and M. Réné said ’Yes!’ almost in a whisper, for he was weak, and then again there was silence. After a long time Madame got up and went out of the room, and M. Réné gave a long sigh, and called Charles, and asked for something to drink. Next day Madame came back. She did not sit down this time, but stood and stared at M. Réné. Big black eyes she had then, and her face all white, as white as his. ’Réné,’ she said, ’are you still mad?’ and M. Réné smiled and said, ’I am not mad at all.’ She put her hand on his forehead. ’You would really do this thing?’ she said. ’Lower our name, take as wife what you might have for the asking as mistress?’ M. Réné turned in bed at that, and between pain and anger his voice sounded strong and loud. ’Whilst I am alive, there ’s no man living shall say that,’ he cried. ’On my soul I swear I shall marry her, and on my soul I swear she is fit to be a king’s wife.’ "Madame took her hand away, and looked at it for a moment. Afterwards, when Charles told me, I thought, did she wonder if she should see blood on it? And then without another word she went out of the room, and gave orders that her carriages were to be got ready, for she was taking M. Réné to Rancy." "Oh, no!" said Aline. "Yes, my dear, yes; and she did it too, and he died of the journey—died calling for Mlle Ange."