The promised wife of the peasant had become the mistress of the noble.
Our hero was not the man to suffer such an outrage quietly.

He walked straight up to the marquis and stood right in his way.

The marquis tried to push him aside with his elbow, but Jean Cavalier, letting fall the cloak in which he was wrapped, drew his sword.

The marquis was brave, and did not stop to inquire if he who attacked him was his equal or not.

Sword answered sword, the blades crossed, and at the end of a few instants the marquis fell, Jean's sword piercing his chest.
Cavalier felt sure that he was dead, for he lay at his feet motionless.
He knew he had no time to lose, for he had no mercy to hope for.
He replaced his bloody sword in the scabbard, and made for the open country; from the open country he hurried into the mountains, and at break of day he was in safety.
The fugitive remained the whole day in an isolated farmhouse whose inmates offered him hospitality.