D'Alvimar took up the knife, examined it closely, handled it, and said, suddenly replacing it on the cushion: "I was mistaken, and I beg your pardon. It is not the weapon that I thought." Lucilio, who was watching him attentively, fancied that he saw his mobile, delicate nostrils dilate with fear or surprise. But that slight facial contraction was noticeable in him on the slightest pretext, sometimes even without any pretext at all. He resumed his game. But Bois-Doré stopped him. "Excuse me," he said; "but as you recognize that object it is my duty to question you; you may be able perhaps to throw some light upon a mysterious occurrence by which my life has been disturbed and made wretched for many years. Be kind enough to tell me, Monsieur de Villareal, if you know the device and initials engraved on this blade. Do you wish to look at it again?" "It is useless, monsieur le marquis, I do not recognize the weapon; it never belonged to me." "Do you feel any repugnance to making sure of that fact?" "Repugnance? Why that question, messire?" "I will explain. You may, perhaps, have recognized the weapon as having belonged to someone whose compatriot you blush to be, but whose name you would tell me none the less if I should appeal to your sense of honor." "If you treat this as a serious matter," replied D'Alvimar, "although it is my turn not to understand you, I will examine it again." He took up the dagger, scrutinized it very calmly, and said: "This is of Spanish workmanship, a weapon in very common use among us. There is no man of noble birth--I may say no free man--who does not carry a similar one in his belt or his sleeve. The device is one of the most common and most widely used: _I serve God_, or _I serve my master_, or _I serve honor_. We find something of that sort on the majority of our arms, whether rapiers, pistols or cutlasses." "Very good; but these two letters S. A., which seem to be a private cipher?" "You can find them on my own weapons, as well as this device; they are the private marks of the Salamanca factory." Bois-Doré felt his suspicions fade away in face of such a natural explanation. Lucilio's suspicions, on the contrary, increased in force. He considered that D'Alvimar was altogether too eager to anticipate the explanation he might be asked to give concerning his own motto and his own initials, which they were supposed not to know. He touched the marquis's knee while pretending to pat Fleurial, and thus warned him not to abandon his investigation. D'Alvimar seemed desirous to forward it himself, for he asked with an air of wounded pride the reason of this interrogatory.