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Some, while buckling on their belts and grasping their cuirasses, ate great mouthfuls, washed down by a draught of wine; and others, whose supper was less advanced, armed themselves with resignation. They called over the names, and only forty-four, including St. Maline, answered. "M. Ernanton de Carmainges is missing," said De Chalabre, whose turn it was to exercise these functions.
Maline was wrong, and that had I been Ernanton de Carmainges, M. de St. Maline would be at this moment stretched on the ground instead of sitting here." St. Maline looked at him furiously. "Oh, I mean what I say," continued he; "and stay, there is some one at the door who appears to agree with me." All turned at this, and saw Ernanton standing in the doorway, looking very pale.
"M. de Carmainges," said the duke, growing very angry, "you are like the rest of the Gascons; blind in prosperity, your good fortune dazzles you, and the possession of a state secret is a weight too heavy for you to carry."
"His face pleases me, and he has white hands and a well-kept beard." "It is Ernanton de Carmainges, a fine fellow, who is capable of much." "He has left behind him some love, I suppose, poor fellow. But what a queer figure his next neighbor is." "Ah! that is M. de Chalabre. If he ruins your majesty, it will not be without enriching himself, I answer for it."
"I have asked no questions, monsieur." "It is true." "Besides, your wound begins to inflame; I advise you to talk less." "You are right; but I want my surgeon." "I am returning to Paris, as I told you: give me his address." "M. de Carmainges, give me your word of honor that if I intrust you with a letter it shall be given to the person to whom it is addressed." "I give it, monsieur."
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