Daumon made no reply, and his silence so plainly showed Norbert that the
Counsellor did not trust him, that he repeated the question in an angry
voice.

"Your blind subservience to your father is too well known."

"You believe that I should confess everything to him?"

"You yourself told me that when his eyes were fixed on yours you could
not avoid yielding to his will."

Norbert's anger gradually died away, as he replied in accents of intense
bitterness,--

"I may be a savage, but I am not likely to become a traitor. If I once
promised to keep a secret, no measures or tortures would tear it from
me. I may fear my father, but I am a Champdoce, and fear no other mortal
man. Do you understand me?"

"But, Marquis--"

"No other mortal man," interrupted Norbert sternly, "will ever know from
me that we have ever exchanged words together."

An expression passed over the features of the Counsellor which cast a
ray of hope upon the young man's heart.

"Upon my word," said he, "any one would judge from my hesitation that
I had some wrong motive in acting as I am doing, but I never give bad