But, however precarious one's position, it is impossible to live without food. La Vireville hobbled downstairs and found a loaf of bread and some sour milk, with which he clambered back to his little room. Eating the bread thoughtfully, as he sat on his devastated bed, he considered the case of Mme. de Guéfontaine. So 'Alexis' had been the unfortunate du Coudrais, the victim of an odious charge made against him (whether in good faith or for some ulterior object Fortuné had never felt quite sure) by a near kinsman of La Vireville's own, the Marquis of that name! La Vireville himself had only arrived at Coblentz a few days after the duel which ensued upon the Marquis's denunciation of du Coudrais at the Three Crowns, to which Mme. de Guéfontaine had made hot reference; but émigré circles were still ringing with the scandal, and the Marquis de la Vireville, his own arm in a sling, was better able to explain to his cousin how he had run du Coudrais through the lungs than to satisfy him--or anybody else--of the ill-starred gentleman's dishonour. But du Coudrais, when he recovered from his wound, had to leave Coblentz nevertheless . . . and, having left it, was abundantly cleared, too late, of the charge against him by the dramatic unmasking of another man as a professional sharper. And for this affair, in which ironically enough, La Vireville had by no means supported his cousin, of whose past record he knew too much, he had been himself within an ace of paying the penalty--might, indeed, yet pay it.