tless,
bleeding, and scorched by the hungry flames, rush into the street.

A hubbub of voices at once arose.

"Bravo, monsieur!"

"That's one who was in the house!"

"He has saved one man's life!"

"See, his face is cut!"

At sight of him my heart for a moment stood still; then I called aloud
"Raoul!" and, scattering the people right and left, ran, frantic with
joy, toward the friend I had never again expected to meet alive.

"Raoul!" I cried, "Raoul! Where have you been? I thought you were in
the burning house!"

"There was your cousin to save," he answered simply, flushing like a
girl.

"You risked your life to save his?"

"Pshaw! I could not leave him to die like a rat. Then Pillot came
with one of his fellows and we carried him through the secret passage
into the next house."

"Is he seriously hurt?"

"I am afraid so; though Pillot calls his wound a scratch. But what of
Peleton? Has he escaped?"

"No! He is safe in the Hotel de Conde by now. D'Arcy and Humphreys
took him there in a coach. But come, let us get away from this crowd,
and visit the surgeon in the Rue Pierre. It is quite time your wounds
were attended to."

"It is scarcely worth the trouble; I can have that done at the
Luxembourg."

However, I managed to persuade him, and the surgeon, a man whom I had
met more than once at the Palais Royal, bathed his wounds, applied some
ointment, and lent him a hat. He was a wise man and asked no
questions, though no doubt he learned in the morning all that he wished
to know.

Leaving the house we walked to the end of the street, when Raoul
stopped, saying, "You had better not go any farther with me; Conde will
be expecting you."

"To-morrow will do," I replied, and we were still discussing the point
when Armand and the Englishman suddenly made their appearance.

I need not describe their joyful surprise on perceiving Raoul, whom
both believed to be dead. John Humphreys did not make a great display
of his feelings--he rarely did--but Armand clapped Raoul on the
shoulder and executed a lively dance.

"Where is Peleton?" I asked, when he had sobered down.

"In the Bastille by now, I expect. Conde is delighted; he will learn
all about the plot within twenty-four hours. I never saw such a coward
as Peleton!"

"The fellow isn't worth powder!" exclaimed Humphreys in disgust.

"Anyhow there is an end to De Retz's scheming," I remarked cheerfully,
but Raoul shook his head.

"The