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He waited now to see the same thing happen to this youthful lawyer
from Gavrillac. But he waited in vain.
Andre-Louis found him ridiculous. He knew pretentiousness for the
mask of worthlessness and weakness. And here he beheld
pretentiousness incarnate. It was to be read in that arrogant
poise of the head, that scowling brow, the inflexion of that
reverberating voice. Even more difficult than it is for a man to
be a hero to his valet - who has witnessed the dispersal of the
parts that make up the imposing whole - is it for a man to be a
hero to the student of Man who has witnessed the same in a different
sense.
Andre-Louis stood forward boldly - impudently, thought M. de
Lesdiguieres.
"You are His Majesty's Lieutenant here in Brittany," he said - and
it almost seemed to the August lord of life and death that this
fellow had the incredible effrontery to address him as one man
speaking to another. "You are the dispenser of the King's high
justice in this province."
Surprise spread on that handsome, sallow face under the heavily
powdered wig.


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