against a stronger thumb. "But whom have you with you?" he asked,
and his eyes took the measure of Fortunio, standing a pace or two
behind his master.

Marius presented his bravo.

"This is Captain Fortunio, the commander of our garrison of
Condillac."

The Marquis nodded good-humouredly towards the captain.

"Captain Fortunio? He is well named for a soldier of fortune. My
brother, no doubt, will have family matters to tell me of. If you
will step below, Monsieur le Capitaine, and drink a health or so
while you wait, I shall be honoured."

The captain, nonplussed, looked at Marius, and Florimond surprised
the look. But Marius's manner became still chillier.

"Fortunio here," said he, and he half turned and let his hand fall
on the captain's shoulder, "is my very good friend. I have no
secrets from him."

The instant lift of Florimond's eyebrows was full of insolent,
supercilious disdain. Yet Marius did not fasten his quarrel upon
that. He had come to La Rochette resolved that any pretext would
serve his turn. But the sight of his brother so inflamed his
jealousy that he had now determined that the quarrel should be
picked on the actual ground in which it had its roots.