as all in the game."

"You did not believe I meant to kill you?"

"Not for an instant," I answered honestly.

He lay back in his chair, and a gratified smile flickered across his
face.

"Maubranne did not tell me," he said feebly. "He knew I would not--not
consent. I only intended to keep you shut up for a few weeks. What
have you done with Peleton?"

"He is in the Bastille! He informed Conde of all that he knew."

"Pah! I warned the Abbe against him, but he refused to listen. Tell
Raoul not to worry about me. I should have recovered but for the
soldiers. Pillot had to move me. It was horrible, but the end is near
now. Ask the Abbe to bury me in Paris."

He stopped exhausted; his eyes closed; his head fell forward, and I
thought that life was gone. Pillot stood near me choking back his
sobs. I had not given him credit for such feeling.

"Oh, monsieur," he whispered, "your cousin was good to me; I would have
given my life freely to save his!"

"Hush! He is speaking again!"

Very low and faint were the words, but we heard him say, "Pillot, are
you there? Good little man, I will not forget. Fetch my cousin,
Pillot. Quick, do you hear? Ah, _monsieur le prince_, you are too
late! It is a pity!" and he laughed derisively.

There was silence for a time, and then I whispered softly, "Henri!" but
he made no answer.

The feeble light played on his face, half hiding, half revealing the
ghastliness of it; and we, without speech or movement, stood watching
him, till the candle sputtering out left us in darkness. Pillot would
have fetched another from the inn, but he feared to stir lest the sound
should disturb the dying man. How long we remained thus I cannot tell,
but shortly before morning broke there came a strange, convulsive
rattle from the huddled figure in the chair, and we knew that Henri de
Lalande had passed from the power of man.

"May his soul rest in peace!" said Pillot simply.

"Amen," I replied, and, moving softly, closed the dead man's eyes.

I was scarcely more than a lad then, and Henri's melancholy death in
this wretched room made a deep impression on me. It was a sad ending
to what might have been a brilliant career. The early dawn, creeping
into the room, cast fantastic shadows everywhere, and the light falling
on my cousin's face imparted to it a strange appearance of life. I
could almost have thought he was smiling at me.

"I have lost a good master," said Pillot. "Y