He had recovered a good deal of his spirit by now.
"Pass you my word of honour ?" he echoed.

"Mon Dieu! my good fellow a word of honour is a bond between gentlemen.

I think too well of mine to pass it to the first greasy rascal of the Republic that asks it of me." La Boulaye eyed him a second with a glance before which the aristocrat grew pale, and already regretted him of his words.

The veins in the Deputy's temples were swollen.
"I warned you," said he, in a dull voice.

Then to the soldiers standing on either side of Ombreval--"Take him out," he said, "mount him on horseback.