They
raised their noble heads and bestowed upon me a look of haughty and
disdainful wonder,--such a look as one might bestow upon a misbehaving
lackey,--all save Vilmorin, who, with a coward's keen nose for danger,
turned slightly pale and fidgeted in his chair. I was well known to all of
them, but my attitude forbade all greeting.
"Has M. de Luynes lost anything?" St. Auban inquired icily.
"His wits, mayhap," quoth Canaples with a contemptuous shrug.
He was a tall, powerfully built man, this Canaples, with a swart, cruel
face that was nevertheless not ill-favoured, and a profusion of black hair.
"There is a temerity in M. de Canaples's rejoinder that I had not looked
for," I said banteringly.
Canaples's brow was puckered in a frown.
"Ha! And why not, Monsieur?"
"Why not? Because it is not to be expected that one who fastens quarrels
upon schoolboys would evince the courage to beard Gaston de Luynes."
"Monsieur!" the four of them cried in chorus, so loudly that the hum of
voices in the tavern became hushed, and all eyes were turned in our
direction.
"M. de Canaples," I said calmly, "permit me to say that I can find no more
fitting expression for the contempt I hold you in than this.
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