“Why are you here, Master Norbert?” asked he in a voice that trembled with emotion.

“I was looking for——­I wanted to find——­,” faltered Norbert.

Jean’s suspicions at once became certainties; he walked up to his young master, and whispered in his ear,—­

“You are looking for the Duke’s bottle of wine, are you not?  It is quite safe; for I have taken it to my room.  To-morrow the contents shall be emptied away, and there will be no proof existing.”

Jean spoke in such a low voice that Norbert guessed rather than heard his words, and yet it seemed that the accusing whisper resounded like thunder through the Chateau, filling the old house from cellar to roof-tree.

“Be quiet,” said he, laying his hand on the old man’s lips, and gazing around him with wild and affrighted glances.

A more complete confession could hardly have been made.

“Fear nothing, Master Norbert,” answered Jean; “we are quite alone.  I know that there are words which should never be even breathed; and if I have ventured to speak, it was because it was my duty to warn you, and to inculcate on you the necessity of caution.”

Norbert was filled with horror when he saw that the old man believed him to be really guilty.

“Jean,” cried he, “you are wrong in your suspicions.  I tell you that my father never tasted that wine.  I snatched the glass from him before his lips had touched it.  I flung it out into the courtyard, and, if you search, you will find its scattered fragments there still.”

“I am not sitting in judgment upon you; what you tell me to believe I am ready to accept.”

“Ah!” cried Norbert passionately, “he does not believe me; he thinks that I am guilty.  I swear to you by all that I hold most sacred in this world, that I am innocent of this deed.”

The attached servant shook his head with a melancholy air.

“Of course, of course,” said he; “but it is for us two to save the honor of the house of Champdoce.  Should it happen that any suspicions should be aroused, put all the guilt upon my shoulders.  I will defend myself in a manner which will only fix the crime more firmly upon me.  I will not throw away the bottle, but will retain it in my room, so that it may be found there, and its contents will be a damnatory evidence against me.  What matters it how a poor man like me is sent out of the world? but with you it is different.  You—­”

Norbert wrung his hands in abject despair; the sublime devotion of the old servant showed how firmly Jean believed in his criminality.  He was about to assert his innocence further, when the loud sound of a closing door was heard above stairs.

“Hush!” said the old man; “some one approaches; we must not be seen whispering together like two plotters, for their suspicions would be certainly awakened; and I fear that my face or your eyes will reveal the secret.  Quick, go upstairs, and endeavor, as soon as possible, to resume your calmness.  I beg you not to compromise the honor of your name, which is in deadly peril.”