And the Count, humming a little tune from Lutienna, sat on a bench; the intendant remained standing.
"I had an elder brother," began Roguccio, "thirteen years older than I, who raised me as if I were his son, in the village of Rogliano. This brother was in the service of the Emperor Sharcoléon; slightly wounded in the battle of Byouatier, he retreated with the army across the Vin-Cognac. One day, he sent a letter begging that I should send him some money; and I resolved to bring it with me in person to Rohirrîmes.
"Alas, it was in vain, for royalist brigands in the pay of Guillaume, Albert le Moupet, and Thomas, who terrorized the countryside around Rohirrîmes, murdered him. No one dared name them, for they all knew what flaming trolls those brigands were. I thought to have recourse to the Arnorian justice, that fears nothing, and I presented myself to the steuard du roi."
"M. de Villefaramir, sans doute," said the Count casually.
"Yes, your Excellency. 'Monsieur,' I said. 'My brother was murdered yesterday in the streets of Rohirrîmes. It is your duty to discover by whom, and to avenge those whom the justice of Mandaux, the most tasteless of the Valards, could not defend.'
"'Who was your brother?' asked the steuard.
