I had fallen into a disused gravel-pit, treacherously hidden by the bushes, so they told me afterwards. When I recovered from my stunned condition, my cries for help had attracted the attention of Fauchard's eldest son, who, fortunately, had been passing. I do not remember calling for help; I remember nothing distinctly till I found myself on my bed, and old Dr. Perichaud of Etiolles bending over me. Then I became keenly alive to my position, for my right thigh was broken in two places, and the doctor was setting it. When the thing was over, the doctor retired with Joubert to the next room, and there they talked. When will people learn that the sick have ears to hear with, and a sense of hearing doubly acute? This conversation came to my ears. The speakers spoke in a muted voice, it is true, but this only made the matter worse. "You have sent for the General, you say?" "Oui, monsieur. A man on horseback has started to fetch him. He will be here in an hour, unless----" "Unless?" "Monsieur does not know. The General has an affair of honour on hand. This morning, in the Bois de Boulogne, he was to meet Baron Imhoff." "Aha!" said Perichaud, with appreciation. He was an old army surgeon, who had tasted smoke, and seen men carved with other things than scalpels. He was also a gossip, as most old army men are. "Aha! And what was the cause of the affair? Do you know?" "Oh, mon Dieu!" said Joubert, "it was all that cursed business at the Schloss Lichtenberg, of which everyone is speaking. Baron Imhoff was cousin"--mark the "was"--"of the Baron von Lichtenberg, Baron Imhoff picked a quarrel at the Grand Club yesterday with the General. That's all. It is a bad affair." "And the Lichtenberg affair--the cause of all this?" said Perichaud. "Ah, that beats the Moscow campaign," said Joubert, "for blackness and treachery. Mark you: this is between ourselves. You will never breathe a word of it to anyone?" "No, no; not a word!" "Well, the Baron Carl von Lichtenberg was mad." "Mad?" "Mad. What else can you call a man who brings his little daughter up as a boy?" "A boy?" "It is true. He fancied she was some old dead-and-gone Lichtenberg returned, and that she was doomed to be killed by the child in there with the broken leg, whom he thought was some old dead-and-gone Saluce returned. Then-- Listen to me; and I trust monsieur's honour never to let these words go further. He, or at least one of his damned jägers, tried to smother the child. The night before, they tried to stab him--as he lay asleep in bed--with my couteau de chasse, and would have done it only the Blessed Virgin interposed." "Great Heaven!" said the old doctor. "Oh, yes," said Joubert; "that's the story. I saw it all with my own eyes, or I wouldn't believe my own tongue with my own ears. And now monsieur, what do you think of him?" "Of him?" said Perichaud. "Of the child. Is there danger?" "Not a bit; but he'll be lame for life." "Lame for life!"