Do you?"

"I?" said Bertrand. "But I have passed all that. There was a time when
ambition was to me as the breath of life. I thought of nothing else. And
then"--his voice dropped a little--"there came a greater thing--the
greatest of all. And I knew that I had climbed above ambition. I knew
success and fame as a procession that passes--that passes--the mirage in
the desert--the dream in the midst of our great Reality. I knew all this
before my ruin came. It was as if a light had suddenly been held up, and
I saw the work of my life as pictures in the sand. Then the great tide
rushed up, and all was washed away. But yet"--his voice vibrated, he
looked at Max and smiled--"the light remained. For a time, indeed, I was
blind, but the light came back to me. And I know now that it was always
there."

He paused, and turned his head sharply.

"What is it?" said Max.

"I heard a sound."

"There are plenty of sounds in this place," Max pointed out.

"Ah! but this was different. It sounded like--" He stopped with a gasp
that made Max frown.

Undoubtedly there was a sound outside, the tread of feet, the jingle of a
sword. Max got up, still frowning, and went to the door.

He had barely reached it before there came a loud knock upon the panels,
and a voice cried: "_Ouvrez_!"

Max's knowledge of French was exceedingly limited, but that fact by no
means dismayed him. He turned round to Bertrand for a moment.

"I'm going to have a talk with this johnny. Don't agitate yourself. You
are not to move till I come back."

"_Ouvrez_!" cried the voice again.

"All right?" questioned Max.

Bertrand was leaning forward. His eyes were very bright, his breathing
very short. "They have come--to take me," he said.

"I'll see them damned first," said Max. "You keep still, and leave it to
me."

His hand was on the door with the words. A moment more he stood,
thick-set and British, looking back. Then with a curt nod, he opened the
door, and passed instantly out, pulling it after him.

Half a dozen soldiers filled the passage. The one who had knocked--an
officer--stood face to face with him.

"Now what do you want?" asked Max.

He stood, holding the door-handle, his red brows drawn, a glint of battle
in the green eyes beneath them. And so, during a brief silence, they
measured each other.

Then quite courteously the Frenchman spoke. "Monsieur, my duty brings me
here. Will you have the goodness to open that door?"

"It's a good