His thin face, his dark moustache, and whitening hair, gave him an air of indescribable keenness.
'I am not the King,' he said.

'Besides, I am told that you have killed as many as six men in duels.

You owe the King, therefore, one life at least.

You must pay it.

There is no more to be said, M.de Berault,' he continued coldly, turning away and beginning to collect some papers.
'The law must take its course.' I thought that he was about to nod to the lieutenant to withdraw me, and a chilling sweat broke out down my back.