“But how is this?” he cried, stopping short in his rapid pacing up and down the room.  “How comes it that that miserable, degraded wretch has not been despatched before this?  I gave the most explicit orders about it to that good-for-nothing Merindol.  In spite of what Vidalinc says, I am convinced that I shall succeed with Isabelle when once that cursed lover of hers is out of my way.  She will be left entirely at my mercy then, and will have to submit to my will and pleasure with the best grace she can muster—­for I shall not allow any sulking or tears.  Doubtless she clings so obstinately to that confounded brute in the belief that she can induce him to marry her in the end.  She means to be Mme. la Baronne de Sigognac—­the aspiring little actress!  That must be the reason of all this mighty display of mock modesty, and of her venturing to repulse the attentions of a duke, as scornfully, by Jove! as if he were a stable-boy.  But she shall rue it—­the impertinent little minx! and I’ll have no mercy shown to the audacious scoundrel who dared to disable this right arm of mine.  Halloa there! send Merindol up to me instantly, do you hear?”

Picard flew to summon him, and in a few moments the discomfited bully made his appearance; pale from abject terror, with teeth chattering and limbs trembling, as he was ushered into the dread presence of his angry lord.  In spite of his efforts to assume the sang-froid he was so far from feeling, he staggered like a drunken man, though he had not drank enough wine that day to drown a fly, and did not dare to lift his eyes to his master’s face.

“Well, you cowardly beast,” said Vallombreuse angrily, how long, pray, are you going to stand there speechless, like a stupid fool, with that hang-dog air, as if you already had the rope that you so richly deserve round your wicked neck?  “I only awaited your lordship’s orders,” stammered Merindol, trying to appear at ease, and failing lamentably.  “My lord duke knows that I am entirely devoted to his service—­even to being hanged, if it seems good to your lordship.”

“Enough of that cant!” interrupted the duke impatiently.  “Didn’t I charge you to have that cursed de Sigognac, otherwise Captain Fracasse, cleared out of my way?  You have not done it—­my orders have not been obeyed.  It is worth while, upon my word, to keep confounded hired rascals to do such work for me, at this rate!  All that you are good for is to stuff yourself in the kitchen, you dastardly beast, and to guzzle my good wine from morning until night.  But I’ve had enough of this, by Jove! and if there is not a change, and that without any further loss of time, to the hangman you shall go—­do you hear? just as sure as you stand there, gaping like a drivelling idiot.”