wit, "by a secret passage similar
to the one by which I entered your room just now. We are to await a
signal from my master--the raising of his sword--and then we are to fall
upon you and make sure of our work. He warned me that if we made a botch
of it you would probably send us all to Heaven, and if we let aught be
known about it, we should all be hanged; and so, methinks, I had better
go be hanged."

Charles could not restrain his amusement at the doleful sincerity with
which the last words were uttered. On other lips the closing remark
would have sounded like dry humour; but Etienne's voice showed that he
expected no better fate.

"So, your master pays me the compliment of hiring no less than four men
to kill me," said Charles. "And what do you propose to do, now that you
have warned me?"

"I know not, Monsieur. It took me an hour walking up and down outside
the gate to get thus far. Another hour's thinking may help me to find
some way of escape from the Sieur de Roberval's wrath."

"I fear, good Etienne, he will never forgive you if his plot
miscarries. He is not a man to break his promises. Perhaps we may see an
easier way out of it than by means of a rope. Who commands the guard
to-night?"

"Pierre Dablon."

"Would he let you pass without doubting your word?"

"Ay, that he would! Pierre has too often felt the strength of my arm to
doubt my word."

"The way is plain, then! Go to the stables, saddle your master's best
and fleetest horse, and put as many leagues between you and this castle
as you can before the time comes to lead your fellows to my death. Tell
Pierre you are sent out by De Roberval with a message that brooks no
delay, and, seeing you so mounted, he will question you no further. Take
this ring, and keep your horse warm till you reach St Malo. Enquire out
Master Jacques Cartier; every Malouin can direct you to him. Show him
the ring, and he will provide for you till I come. And say not a word of
your master's attempt on my life. Let none but Master Cartier's ears
hear the story of Mdlle. de Roberval and M. de Pontbriand. The world
does not understand. They may still be alive, and we will bring them
back; and all France shall hear their story from their own lips."

Etienne could only fall on his knees and kiss Charles' hand in
speechless gratitude.

"But, Monsieur," he exclaimed, "will you not come with me? My master
will certainly kill you; and the castle is full of cut-throats who will