I clinched my hands to still their trembling, until the blood started beneath the nails. “M. le Comte,” I began, “hear me to the end. I came to Montauban from Marsan as fast as horse could carry me that I might place in your hand a message which concerns you deeply. You know what my reception was, but you do not know that after I had been thrown into yonder dungeon some one crept upon me while I slept and tore the message from me. See, here is where I carried it. You have a traitor in your house, Monsieur!” His face was red, and I could hear the stir in the circle of men-at-arms behind me. Only d’Aurilly laughed harshly. “A pretty story!” he cried. “A brazen lie! Does not your patience near an end, M. le Comte?” But I looked only at my master. Surely he must see that I spoke truth! “M. le Comte will remember,” I concluded, “that I told him of this message in his sleeping-room, but he would not hear me out. The one who robbed me must have known I carried it, yet I told no one save yourself, the sentry at the outer door, M. Letourge, and--the Vicomte d’Aurilly.” I was looking full at d’Aurilly now, and I think he read the meaning of my look, for his face went white, and I could see his hand gripping his sword-hilt. And in that instant I knew who the traitor was! “Good God, M. le Comte!” he burst out, “do you permit us to be insulted by this scoundrel?” But my master waved him to silence. His face was very stern and his voice cold as steel when he spoke again. “You make grave charges, M. de Marsan,” he said; “so grave that either your head or another’s will fall. Do you know the contents of this message?” “I do, Monsieur,” I answered, and I saw d’Aurilly go white again. “I have been trying to tell it you. I learned it by rote that I might repeat it in case I was intercepted and so compelled to destroy it. I had not foreseen it would be stolen from me at my journey’s end.” “Well, repeat it then, man!” he cried, moving in his seat uneasily. “Out with it!” “‘M. le Duc de Roquefort,’” I repeated, “‘has learned of the presence of Madame la Comtesse at the Château de Cadillac, together with Mademoiselle, her daughter. He has learned also that not above thirty men can be mustered to defend the place. He designs to carry it by surprise and to take prisoner Madame and Mademoiselle, confident that with them as hostages he can secure certain concessions from M. le Comte. There is need of haste!’” I could hear the crowd behind me breathing hard. A murmur of rage and astonishment ran from mouth to mouth, and I caught the rattle of a hundred scabbards as hand fell to hilt. M. le Comte was trembling with emotion. “And the signature!” he cried, bending down from his chair till his eyes glared into mine. “The signature!” “I know nothing of the signature,” I said. “It was not given to me.” “But whence came the message? Prove to me that it is genuine--that it may be believed!”