"Now, this is my errand," continued the councillor, with a benignant air and in a conciliatory tone, when the children had left the room, "I am instructed by Monsieur le Prince, who is your lord and my own, and to whom my family, from father to son, is closely attached, to inquire into an unpleasant affair in which you are involved. I will go straight to the fact. You have caused the disappearance of a certain Monsieur Sciarra d'Alvimar, who was your guest as I am, with the difference that he had no escort with him as I have, to protect my person and my commission; for I must inform you that, under yonder window, are twenty men, well armed, and in your village twenty others, ready to come to their assistance, if you do not receive in a becoming manner the messenger of the governor and grand bailiff of the province." "This warning is unnecessary, Monsieur Lenet," replied Bois-Doré, with much tranquillity and courtesy. "If you were alone in my house, you would be the safer therein. It is enough that you are my guest, and by so much the more are you protected by the commission of Monsieur le Prince, to whose authority I am in nowise rebellious. Am I to accompany you and account to him for my conduct? I am quite prepared, and entirely undisturbed, as you see." "That is not necessary, Monsieur de Bois-Doré. I have full power to question you and deal with you according as I find you innocent or guilty. Be good enough to tell me what has become of Monsieur d'Alvimar?" "I killed him in a fair duel," replied the marquis, confidently. "But without witnesses?" rejoined the councillor with an ironical smile. "There was one, monsieur, and the most honorable of men. If you wish to hear the story----" "Will it be long?" queried the councillor, who seemed distraught. "No, monsieur; although it seems to me that I am entitled to explain my conduct fully in a matter which concerns my life and my honor, I will take as little of your time as possible." XLII Bois-Doré told the whole story succinctly, and exhibited his proofs. Still the councillor seemed impatient and distraught. But his attention seemed to be caught by one point. That point was the incident of La Flèche's predictions at La Motte-Seuilly. Bois-Doré, having to produce his brother's seal as the final proof of his identity with D'Alvimar's victim, felt that he ought to mention that circumstance; but, before he had time to explain definitely how little real sorcery there was in Master La Flèche's prophecies, he was interrupted by the councillor. "Stay," said he, "I recall one charge against you which I had forgotten. You are suspected of being addicted to magic, Monsieur de Bois-Doré. And upon that charge I acquit you in advance, for I have no faith in the soothsayer's art, and see nothing in it but a mental pastime. Will you tell me if it happened that these gypsies predicted anything true?"