“Yes.”

“That is all.”

“Haven’t you, then, a fourth companion?”

“Yes, madame, the Comte de la Fere.”

“What does he ask?”

“Nothing.”

“There is in the world, then, one man who, having the power to ask, asks — nothing!”

“There is the Comte de la Fere, madame.

The Comte de la Fere is not a man.”

“What is he, then?”

“The Comte de la Fere is a demi-god.”

“Has he not a son, a young man, a relative, a nephew, of whom Comminges spoke to me as being a brave boy, and who, with Monsieur de Chatillon, brought the standards from Lens?”