prisoner of ours, to have gained the affection of such a
gang.

I had brought a rope from the inn, and we slung it over the lower bough
of the tree.

'You will permit me, monsieur, to undo your collar,' said Papilette,
with mock politeness.

'If your hands are perfectly clean,' answered our prisoner, and set the
whole half-squadron laughing.

There was another yell from the wall, followed by a profound hush as the
noose was tightened round Marshal Millefleurs' neck. Then came a shriek
from a bugle, the Abbey gates flew open, and three men rushed out waving
white cloths in their hands. Ah, how my heart bounded with joy at the
sight of them. And yet I would not advance an inch to meet them, so that
all the eagerness might seem to be upon their side. I allowed my
trumpeter, however, to wave a handkerchief in reply, upon which the
three envoys came running towards us. The Marshal, still pinioned, and
with the rope round his neck, sat his horse with a half smile, as one
who is slightly bored and yet strives out of courtesy not to show it.
If I were in such a situation I could not wish to carry myself better,
and surely I can say no more than that.

They were a singular trio, these ambassadors. The one was a Portuguese
cacadore in his dark uniform, the second a French chasseur in the
lightest green, and the third a big English artilleryman in blue and
gold. They saluted, all three, and the Frenchman did the talking.

'We have thirty-seven English dragoons in our hands,' said he. 'We give
you our most solemn oath that they shall all hang from the Abbey wall
within five minutes of the death of our Marshal.'

'Thirty-seven!' I cried. 'You have fifty-one.'

'Fourteen were cut down before they could be secured.'

'And the officer?'

'He would not surrender his sword save with his life. It was not our
fault. We would have saved him if we could.'

Alas for my poor Bart! I had met him but twice, and yet he was a man
very much after my heart. I have always had a regard for the English for
the sake of that one friend. A braver man and a worse swordsman I have
never met.

I did not, as you may think, take these rascals' word for anything.
Papilette was dispatched with one of them, and returned to say that it
was too true. I had now to think of the living.

'You will release the thirty-seven dragoons if I free your leader?'

'We will give you ten of them.'

'Up with him!' I cried.

'Twenty,' shouted the chasseur.