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 spoke in tones that Calli could not fail to hear:—­

“Never turn your face from a cowardly foe, Max.  He will, if he can, stab you in the back.  Your revenge will come when you send his soul to hell.”

Calli grasped his dagger hilt and muttered something about the duke’s presence.  The incident determined us in the course Max should take.  He should tell the duke who he was, remain in Burgundy to kill this fellow Calli, and to meet such other fortune as the Fates might have in store for him.

Hymbercourt and the duke spoke together for the space of five minutes, evidently discussing a parchment that Charles held in his hand.  Then the duke resumed his seat, and handed the parchment to the Bishop of Cambrai, when all save His Reverence stepped from the dais to the floor.  A herald commanded silence, and the bishop spoke:—­