ndred and yet
live--the work of Turks, not Christians. If you want my life, why, take
it and have done."

The Marquis de Montcalm whispered to the Commandant. The Seigneur
Duvarney, to whom I had not yet spoken, nor he to me, stood leaning
against the wall, gazing at me seriously and kindly.

Presently Ramesay, the Commandant, spoke, not unkindly: "It was ordered
you should wear chains, but not that you should be maltreated. A surgeon
shall be sent to you, and this chain shall be taken from your ankle.
Meanwhile, your guards shall be changed."

I held out the pistol, and he took it. "I can not hope for justice
here," said I, "but men are men, and not dogs, and I ask for human usage
till my hour comes and my country is your jailer."

The Marquis smiled, and his gay eyes sparkled. "Some find comfort in
daily bread, and some in prophecy," he rejoined. "One should envy your
spirit, Captain Moray."

"Permit me, your Excellency," replied I; "all Englishmen must envy the
spirit of the Marquis de Montcalm, though none is envious of his cause."

He bowed gravely. "Causes are good or bad as they are ours or our
neighbours'. The lion has a good cause when it goes hunting for its
young; the deer has a good cause when it resists the lion's leap upon
its fawn."

I did not reply, for I felt a faintness coming; and at that moment the
Seigneur Duvarney came to me, and put his arm through mine. A dizziness
seized me, my head sank upon his shoulder, and I felt myself floating
away into darkness, while from a great distance came a voice:

"It had been kinder to have ended it last year."

"He nearly killed your son, Duvarney." This was the voice of the Marquis
in a tone of surprise.

"He saved my life, Marquis," was the sorrowful reply. "I have not paid
back those forty pistoles, nor ever can, in spite of all."

"Ah, pardon me, seigneur," was the courteous rejoinder of the General.

That was all I heard, for I had entered the land of complete darkness.
When I came to, I found that my foot had been bandaged, there was a
torch in the wall, and by my side something in a jug, of which I drank,
according to directions in a surgeon's hand on a paper beside it.

I was easier in all my body, yet miserably sick still, and I remained
so, now shivering and now burning, a racking pain in my chest. My couch
was filled with fresh straw, but in no other wise was my condition
altered from the first time I had entered this place. My new jaile