ight when I reached the town,
after a weary tramp from Pointe-aux-Trembles. I knew all about the ball
and that, of course, Bouchette would be there. We had planned to seize
him on his way home from the Castle. Everything turned out as had been
anticipated. Our men did their work to perfection. They acted with
bravery and intelligence. It was a pity to spoil their success."

"Did you not arrive upon the scene in advance?"

"Yes, a few moments before the assault."

"Then why did you not prevent it altogether?"

"I hadn't the heart to do it. I wanted to give my men and myself that
much satisfaction. I wanted to see how my companions would do their
duty. Besides, although I had promised not to kidnap Bouchette, I did
not promise that I would not give him a good scare."

"Scare?" interrupted M. Belmont contemptuously, "Bouchette is as brave a
man as lives."

"Right enough," said Batoche with a giggle. "He showed fight and
brandished his cane like a man. So far as scaring went, the attack was a
failure."

"The whole thing was a failure, Batoche. It will ruin us. It will drive
me out of the town. I suppose the garrison is in an uproar about it by
this time."

"The assailants are not known and cannot be discovered."

"Exactly, and therefore the innocent will be suspected. Your great
mistake was in doing the thing by halves. A real abduction would not
have been so bad, for then the victim would not have been there to tell
his story. As it is, he has no doubt told it to everybody, and there is
no foreseeing what the consequences will be."

Batoche did not reply, but there was something in his manner which
showed that he felt very little repentance for what he had done.

At this point of the colloquy the servant came to the door and announced
Captain Bouchette.

M. Belmont was thunderstruck. Batoche remained perfectly impassive.

"Show him up," at length faltered M. Belmont.

Batoche made a movement to rise, but his companion stopped him
abruptly.

"Do not stir," he said. "Your presence may be useful."

Bouchette came striding in boisterously and in the fullest good humour.
He embraced his old friend with effusion, and accepted the introduction
to Batoche in a genial, off-hand fashion. Of course this conduct put a
new aspect on affairs, and M. Belmont was set quite at ease. Bouchette
opened at once with an account of the great ball. He said that he had
come purposely for that. He described all its phases in his