What's that?

THE LACKEY.

Your sister loves his son. Would you surprise them?

TIBURTIUS.

When?

THE LACKEY.

Now.

TIBURTIUS.

Where?

THE LACKEY.

Where I know--

TIBURTIUS.

Wait for me here.

Austria shall be relieved.

THE DUKE.

[_Placing his hand on the_ ATTACHe'S _shoulder._]

I thank you, sir.

THE ATTACHe.

[_Turning._]

What for, sir?

THE DUKE.

Hush.

THE ATTACHe.

The Duke!

THE DUKE.

A plot.

THE ATTACHe.

Amazement!

THE DUKE.

I've nothing but my secret. Now it's yours.

We meet to-night at Wagram. _Be_ there.

THE ATTACHe.

I!

THE DUKE.

Are you not one of us?

THE ATTACHe.

I am the King's.

THE DUKE.

But you're to fight a duel for my Father.

And so we're somewhat brothers. Fare-you-well.

THE ATTACHe.

You hope to win me?

THE DUKE.

I am sure to win you.

Did not my Sire win Philippe de Segur?

THE ATTACHe.

To-morrow I return to France. I warn you--

THE DUKE.

You are a future Marshal of the Empire.

THE ATTACHe.

I warn you, if my regiment meets yours I shall not hesitate to fire.

THE DUKE.