how audacious!" he whispered, "and yet how opportune--this
return. It is all to be recommenced, my friends, with a firmer grasp, a
new courage."

"But my task is accomplished," returned Colville. "You have no further
use for a mere Englishman, like myself. I was fortunate in being able to
lend some slight assistance in the original discovery of our friend; I
have again been lucky enough to restore him to you. And now, with your
permission, I will return to Royan, where I have my little apartment, as
you know."

He looked from one to the other, with his melancholy and
self-deprecating smile.

"Voila," he added; "it remains for me to pay my respects to Madame de
Chantonnay. We have travelled far, and I am tired. I shall ask her to
excuse me."

"And Monsieur de Bourbon comes to Gemosac. That is understood. He will
be safe there. His apartments have been in readiness for him these last
two months. Hidden there, or in other dwellings--grander and better
served, perhaps, than my poor ruin, but no safer--he can continue the
great work he began so well last winter. As for you, my dear Colville,"
continued the Marquis, taking the Englishman's two hands in his, "I envy
you from the bottom of my heart. It is not given to many to serve France
as you have served her--to serve a King as you have served one. It
will be my business to see that both remember you. For France, I allow,
sometimes forgets. Go to Royan, since you wish--but it is only for a
time. You will be called to Paris some day, that I promise you."

The Marquis would have embraced him then and there, had the cool-blooded
Englishman shown the smallest desire for that honour. But Dormer
Colville's sad and doubting smile held at arms' length one who was
always at the mercy of his own eloquence.

The card tables had lost their attraction; and, although many parties
were formed, and the cards were dealt, the players fell to talking
across the ungathered tricks, and even the Abbe Touvent was caught
tripping in the matter of a point.

"Never," exclaimed Madame de Chantonnay, as her guests took leave at
their wonted hour, and some of them even later--"never have I had a
Thursday so dull and yet so full of incident."

"And never, madame," replied the Marquis, still on tiptoe, as it were,
with delight and excitement, "shall we see another like it."

Loo went back to Gemosac with the fluttering old man and Juliette.
Juliette, indeed, was in no flutter, but had carried h