I had forgotten that I was a suspected spy until the fact was recalled
to me at that moment by the reappearance of Major Reeder. He came
bustling past me, carrying as I saw, to my great indignation, the
sword which had been presented to my grandfather, and which my
grandfather had given to me. I sprang after him and twisted it out of
his hand.

"How dare you!" I cried. "You have opened my trunk! How dare you pry
into my affairs? General Laguerre!" I protested. "I appeal to you,
sir."

"Major Reeder," the General demanded, sharply, "what does this mean?"

"I was merely seeking evidence, General," said Reeder. "You asked for
his papers, and I went to look for them."

"I gave you no orders to pry into this gentleman's trunk," said the
General. "You have exceeded your authority. You have done very ill,
sir. You have done very ill."

While the General was reproving Reeder, his eyes, instead of looking
at the officer, were fixed upon my sword. It was sufficiently
magnificent to attract the attention of anyone, certainly of any
soldier. The scabbard was of steel, wonderfully engraved, the hilt was
of ivory, and the hilt-guard and belt fastenings were all of heavy
gold. The General's face was filled with appreciation.

"You have a remarkably handsome sword there," he said, and hesitated,
courteously, "--I beg your pardon, I have not heard your name?"