"That isn't your weakness, Max, it's your strength," I responded. "Few
men are so unfortunate as to escape it. God must pity those who do. It
may be well to tell the duke who you are. If he is displeased, we may
leave Burgundy at once. If he receives you graciously, we may remain and
you may fight this Calli. That is the one duty that holds you
in Peronne."

My heart was hardened with years, and its love of just vengeance was
stronger than young Max could feel. Besides, he was possessed by a
softer passion; and though he felt it his pleasant duty to fight Calli,
vengeance held second place in his breast.

Hymbercourt returned, and we started for the castle accompanied by our
squires; all riding in fine state.

We arrived at the great hall before the duke had arisen from the morning
audience, and waited unobserved in the back part of the chamber. Our
Irish squire, Michael, carried Caesar, hooded and belled. He was held by
a golden chain that we had bought from a goldsmith, notwithstanding our
purse was growing dangerously light.

There was a great stir in the hall as we entered. The courtiers were
buzzing like a swarm of bees discussing a new queen. Evidently matters
of importance had been under consideration. Campo-Basso, my Lord de
Vergy, seneschal of Burgundy, and the Bishop of Cambrai, clerk to the
duke, were standing on the second step of the dais, each with hand
resting on knee, and leaning eagerly toward the duke. Charles and these
councillors were speaking in low tones, and the courtiers of less degree
were taking advantage of the intermission in public business to settle
the great question among themselves. Each petty courtier felt that he
could offer a suggestion that would be of great value, could he but gain
the duke's ear.

After a little time, Charles saw Hymbercourt with us, and sent a page to
fetch him. Hymbercourt left us, and soon we saw him in whispered
conversation with the duke. Soon after Hymbercourt had gone to the
ducal throne, Calli, with two Italians, stopped four paces from where we
were standing. He gazed insolently at Max, and said in Italian to his
companions:--

"There is the loutish outlander, who boasted before the duke that he
would fight me. He is a big callow fellow, and it would be a shame to
stick the swine."

Max, who understood the Italian language sufficiently to grasp Calli's
meaning, flushed angrily, but I touched his arm and he turned his back
upon the fellow. Then I