XXI ON THE EDUCATION OF PRINCES 283

XXII THE EVENTS OF MONDAY 296

XXIII THE LANDING 310

XXIV PACHMANN SCORES 321

XXV THE TRAP 334

XXVI THE TURN OF THE SCREW 346

XXVII THE VOICE AT THE DOOR 357

XXVIII CROCHARD, THE INVINCIBLE! 370

XXIX THE ESCAPE 382

XXX COUNCIL OF WAR 397

XXXI THE ALLIANCE ENDS 407

XXXII STRASBOURG 420

THE DESTROYER

CHAPTER I

THE TWENTY-FIFTH OF SEPTEMBER

Monsieur Aristide Brisson, the fat little proprietor of the Hotel du
Nord--a modest house facing the Place Puget at Toulon--turned uneasily
in his sleep, as though fretted by a disturbing dream; then he awoke
with a start and rubbed his eyes. A glance at the dark windows showed
that the dawn was yet far distant, and he was about to turn over and go
thankfully to sleep again when a sudden remembrance leaped into his
brain. In an instant, he had bounded from the bed, struck a match, and,
after a look at his watch, lighted a candle. Then he returned to the
bed, and, without compunction, grasped the plump arm of Madame Brisson,
who was sleeping peacefully, and shook her roughly.

"Wake, Gabrielle, wake!" he cried--in French, of course.

Madame Brisson, who was also little and fat with a white skin that was
her pride, opened her eyes, stared an instant, and then sat up in bed.

"Heavens, Brisson!" she cried, her hand to her throat. "What is it? What
has happened? Have you illness?"

"No, no!" said her husband, who was struggling with his trousers. "But
rise, quickly!"

Madame Brisson glanced at the dark windows.

"I do not understand," she said.

"Ah, Gabrielle," said her husband reproachfully, "I should never have
believed you could have forgotten! It is to-day, at sunrise, that our
guests depart!"

"Heavens!" cried Madame Brisson again, and she, too, bounded from the
bed and began to don her clothes with trembling fingers. "That I should
have forgotten! Forgive me, Aristide! What hour is it?"

"It is almost four and a half. At five, the coffee must be ready."

"It shall be!" Madame promised, and hurried from the room,