Then the Seigneur Louis Henri Anatole de Chatillard laughed scornfully and said to Father Drouillard: "Why do you deceive me, Father?
Why do you tell me that is one, Robert Lennox, a youth of the Bostonnais, who stands before me, when my own eyes tell me that it is the Chevalier Raymond Louis de St.Luc, come as befits a soldier of France to say farewell to an old man before he dies." Robert felt an extraordinary thrill of emotion.

M.de Chatillard, seeing with the eyes of the past, had taken him for the Chevalier.

But why?
"It is not the Chevalier de St.Luc," said Father Drouillard, gently.
"It is the lad, Robert Lennox, from the Province of New York." "But it is St.Luc!" insisted the old man.

"The face is the same, the eyes are the same! Should I not know?
I have known the Chevalier, and his father and grandfather before him." The priest signed to Robert, and he withdrew into the shadow of the room.

Then Father Drouillard whispered into M.de Chatillard's ear, one of the servants gave him medicine from a glass, and presently he sank into quiet, seeming to be conscious no longer of the presence of the strangers.