“There is no hurry, my Lord,” Benedict assured him.
“None at all,” the Duc agreed—but he came again much sooner than Benedict had anticipated, before the sun had set.
“There has been a terrible accident, Master Paschel,” Lord de Romanin said.
“Not my father!” Benedict protested.
“Oh no,” his master said. “Your father is perfectly safe in his cozy dungeon. The accident occurred during the jousting at my son’s betrothal feast....”
“Not your son!” Benedict exclaimed, in frank astonishment.
“I wish you would not keep interrupting,” Lord de Romanin said. “My son is perfectly well. It is the Comte de Thyresse, the father of his contracted bride, who has suffered a terrible misfortune. His daughter begged him not to enter the lists, and I advised him myself that it was an unwise thing to do
