ng to see your
friends go under the guillotine? Surely not, monsieur! Surely you are too
brave a gentleman. Surely a man who has behaved as gallantly as you--No,
captain, I cannot believe it!"

"Mademoiselle," he said blandly, "still has much to learn of the world.
Take myself, for instance. I am a gentleman only by birth and breeding.
Otherwise, pray believe I am quite unspeakable, quite. Do you not see
that even my son finds me so?"

He nodded towards me in graceful courtesy.

"For me," he continued smoothly, "only one thing has ever remained
evident, and well-defined for long, and that, my lady, is money. Nearly
everything else seems to tarnish, but still money keeps its lustre. Ah!
Now we begin to understand each other. Strange you should not realize it
sooner. I cannot understand what actuated so many persons, supposedly
rational, to sign such a ridiculous document. That they have done so is
their fault, not mine. I believe, Mademoiselle, in profiting by the
mistakes of others. I believe in profiting by this one. Someone should be
glad to pay a pretty price for it."

He stopped and shrugged his shoulders, and she stood before him
helpless, her hand raised toward him in entreaty. For a moment my father
glanced away.

"You couldn't! Oh, you couldn't!" she began. "For God's sake, Monsieur,
think what you are doing. I--we all trusted you, depended on your help.
We thought you were with us. We---"

Her voice choked in a sob, and she sank into a chair, her face buried in
her hands. My father looked at her, and took a pinch of snuff.

"Indeed," he said, "I am almost sorry, but it is the game, Mademoiselle.
We each have our little square on the chess board. I regret that mine is
a black one. A while ago I was a pawn, paid by your family. Then it
seemed to me expedient to do as you dictated--to take you out of France
to safety, to deliver both you and a certain paper to your brother's
care. But that was a while ago. I am approaching the king row now.
Forgive me, if things seem different--and rest assured, Mademoiselle,
that you, at least, are in safe hands as long as you obey my directions."

He made this last statement with a benign complacency, and once more
busied himself with his nails. I took a step toward him, and he looked
up, as though to receive my congratulations.

"So you leave us, my son," he said briskly. "I fear you will meet with
trouble before you pass the lane. But you seem surprisingly able to lo