'For if you were to say that you had struck Gil de Berault and left the ground with a whole skin, no one would believe you.' 'Gil de Berault!' he exclaimed frowning.
'Yes, Monsieur,' I replied suavely.

'At your service.

You did not know my name ?' 'I thought that your name was De Barthe,' he said.

His voice sounded queerly; and he waited for the answer with parted lips, and a shadow in his eyes which I had seen in men's eyes before.
'No,' I said; 'that was my mother's name.

I took it for this occasion only.' His florid cheek lost a shade of its colour, and he bit his lips as he glanced at the Lieutenant, trouble in his eyes.