Yet he had been drunk the night before, drunk with three noncommissioned officers--and he a gentleman, in spite of all, as could be plainly seen.
He turned his head away from the girl quickly, and looked straight into the eyes of her grandfather.
"I'll tell you how it was, Sieur de Mauprat," said he.

"I was crossing the Place du Vier Prison when a rascal threw a cleaver at me from a window.

If it had struck me on the head--well, the Royal Court would have buried me, and without a slab to my grave like Rullecour.

I burst open the door of the house, ran up the stairs, gripped the ruffian, and threw him through the window into the street.

As I did so a door opened behind, and another cut-throat came at me with a pistol.