Whereupon the marquis called his servant, consigned the precious packet, with an admonition, to his care, and followed by him set off on his mission of defiance. The duke, who had passed a restless, wakeful night, and only fallen asleep towards morning, was not yet up when the Marquis de Bruyères, upon reaching his house, told the servant who admitted him to announce him immediately to his master. The valet was aghast at the enormity of this demand, which was expressed in rather a peremptory tone. What! disturb the duke! before he had called for him! it would be as much as his life was worth to do it; he would as soon venture unarmed into the cage of a furious lion, or the den of a royal tiger. The duke was always more or less surly and ill-tempered on first waking in the morning, even when he had gone to bed in a good humour, as his servants knew to their cost. “Your lordship had much better wait a little while, or call again later in the day,” said the valet persuasively, in answer to the marquis. “My lord, the duke, has not summoned me yet, and I would not dare—” “Go this instant to your master and announce the Marquis de Bruyères,” interrupted that gentleman, in loud, angry tones, “or I will force the door and admit myself to his presence. I _must_ speak to him, and that at once, on important business, in which your master’s honour is involved.” “Ah! that makes a difference,” said the servant, promptly, “why didn’t your lordship mention it in the first place? I will go and tell my lord, the duke, forthwith; he went to bed in such a furious, blood-thirsty mood last night that I am sure he will be enchanted at the prospect of a duel this morning—delighted to have a pretext for fighting.” And the man went off with a resolute air, after respectfully begging the marquis to be good enough to wait a few minutes. At the noise he made in opening the door of his master’s bedroom, though he endeavoured to do it as softly as possible, Vallombreuse, who was only dozing, started up in bed, broad awake, and looked round fiercely for something to throw at his head. “What the devil do you mean by this?” he cried savagely. “Haven’t I ordered you never to come in here until I called for you? You shall have a hundred lashes for this, you scoundrel, I promise you; and you needn’t whine and beg for mercy either, for you’ll get none from me. I’d like to know how I am to go to sleep again now?” “My lord may have his faithful servant lashed to death, if it so please his lordship,” answered the valet, with abject respect, “but though I have dared to transgress my lord’s orders, it is not without a good reason. His lordship, the Marquis de Bruyères, is below, asking to speak with my lord, the duke, on important business, relating to an affair of honour, and I know that my lord never denies himself to any gentleman on such occasions, but always receives visits of that sort, at any time of day or night.”