thing you can speak English," Max remarked, with his
one-sided smile. "What do you want to go in there for? The room is mine."

"And you are entertaining a friend there, monsieur." The Frenchman still
spoke suavely; he even smiled an answering smile.

"That is so," Max said. "Do you know his name?"

"It is Bertrand de Montville." There was no hesitation in the reply. He
looked as if he expected the Englishman to move aside, as he made it. But
Max stood his ground.

"And what is your business with him?" he asked.

The officer's brows went up. "Monsieur?"

"You have come to arrest him?" Max questioned.

The Frenchman hesitated for a moment, then: "I must do my duty," he said.

The green eyes contemplated him thoughtfully for a space. Then, "I
suppose you know he is dying?" Max said slowly.

"Dying, monsieur!" The tone was sharp, the speaker plainly incredulous.

Max explained without emotion. "He is suffering from an incurable disease
of the heart, caused by hardship and starvation. If you go in and agitate
him now, I won't give that for his chances of lasting through the night."

He snapped his fingers without taking his eyes from the other's face.

"Is it true?" the Frenchman said.

"It is absolutely true." Max spoke quietly, but there was force behind
his words. "You can do what you like to safeguard him, though he is quite
incapable of getting away. You can surround the house and post sentries
at the door. But unless you want to kill him outright, you won't take him
away from here. You can send one of your own doctors to certify what I
say. You don't want to kill him, I presume?"

The Frenchman was listening attentively. It was evident that Max Wyndham
was making an impression.

"My orders are to arrest him and to take him to the fortress," he said.

"Dead or alive?" asked Max.

"But certainly not dead, monsieur. All France will be calling for him
to-morrow."

"That's the funny part of it," said Max. "France should have thought of
that before. Well, sir, if you want him to live, all you can do is to
wait. I will keep him going through the night, and you can send a doctor
round in the morning."

"You are a doctor?" asked the Frenchman keenly.

"No. I am a medical student."

"And you are friends, _hein_?"

"Yes, we are friends. It was I who brought him here."

"But what a pity, monsieur!" There was a touch of kindly feeling in the
words.

"Yes," Max acknowledged grimly. "It was a pity. But