"Is it proofs you lack ?" quoth the Duke again, and then with the air of a man launching an unanswerable question: "How came you by the wound you had that day in the woods ?" A smile quivered on Francesco's face, and was gone.
"I asked for proofs, not questions," he protested wearily.

"What shall it prove if I had a hundred wounds ?" "Prove ?" echoed the Duke, less and less confident of his ground, fearing already that he had perhaps gone too fast and too far upon the road of his suspicions.

"It proves to me, when coupled with your presence there, that you were in the fight the night before." Francesco stirred at that.

He sighed and smiled at once.

Then assuming a tone of brisk command: "Bid these men begone," he said, pointing to his guards.