nt danger, "silence! where is my father?"

"M. the marquis is in his room with M. Louis. He has had a sudden
attack of the gout, and cannot put his foot to the ground; but you,
monsieur----"

Gaston did not stop to listen further. He hurried to his father's room.

The old marquis, who was playing backgammon with Louis, dropped his
dice-box with a cry of horror, when he looked up and saw his eldest son
standing before him covered with blood.

"What is the matter? what have you been doing, Gaston?"

"I have come to embrace you for the last time, father, and to ask for
assistance to escape abroad."

"Do you wish to fly the country?"

"I must fly, father, and instantly; I am pursued, the police may be here
at any moment. I have killed two men."

The marquis was so shocked that he forgot the gout, and attempted to
rise; a violent twinge made him drop back in his chair.

"Where? When?" he gasped.

"At Tarascon, in a cafe, an hour ago; fifteen men attacked me, and I
seized a knife to defend myself."

"The old tricks of '93," said the marquis. "Did they insult you, Gaston?
What was the cause of the attack?"

"They insulted in my presence the name of a noble young girl."

"And you punished the rascals? Jarnibleu! You did well. Who ever heard
of a gentleman allowing insolent puppies to speak disrespectfully of a
lady of quality in his presence? But who was the lady you defended?"

"Mlle. Valentine de la Verberie."

"What!" cried the marquis, "what! the daughter of that old witch! Those
accursed de la Verberies have always brought misfortune upon us."

He certainly abominated the countess; but his respect for her noble
blood was greater than his resentment toward her individually, and he
added:

"Nevertheless, Gaston, you did your duty."

Meanwhile, the curiosity of St. Jean, the marquis's old valet, made him
venture to open the door, and ask:

"Did M. the marquis ring?"

"No, you rascal," answered M. de Clameran: "you know very well I did
not. But, now you are here, be useful. Quickly bring some clothes for
M. Gaston, some fresh linen, and some warm water: hasten and dress his
wounds."

These orders were promptly executed, and Gaston found he was not so
badly hurt as he had thought. With the exception of a deep stab in his
left shoulder, his wounds were not serious.

After receiving all the attentions which his condition required, Gaston
felt like a new man, ready to brave any peril. His eyes sparkled