Crillon cried boisterously, 'Good hit!' and the majority, who wished no better than to divine the winning party, grinned broadly, whether they would or no.
To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone else seemed an amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while the former turned yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, the latter looked as chapfallen and startled as if his guilt; had been that moment brought home to him.

Assured by the tone of the monk's voice--which must, indeed, have thundered in his ears--that my name was uttered in denunciation by one who thought me his assailant, he had chosen to tell the truth without reflecting that words, so plain to him, might; bear a different construction when repeated.
'Certainly the words seem ambiguous,' Henry muttered.
'But it was Marsac killed him,' Retz cried in a rage.
'It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,' my champion answered suavely.
The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Mercoeur, who commonly took part with him; but apparently those noblemen had not been primed for this occasion.

They merely shook their heads and smiled.

In the momentary silence which followed, while all looked curiously at Bruhl, who could not conceal his mortification, M.d'Agen stepped forward.
'If your Majesty will permit me,' he said, a malicious simper crossing his handsome face--I had often remarked his extreme dislike for Bruhl without understanding it--'I think I can furnish some evidence more to the point than that; to which M.de Bruhl has with so much fairness restricted himself.' He then went on to state that he had had the honour of being in my company at the time of the murder; and he added, besides, so many details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of any candid person.
The king nodded.

'That settles the matter,' he said, with a sigh of relief.