nxiously.

Thought seemed to rally in him, and, staring--alas! how helpless and
how sad: that look of a man brought back for an instant from the
Shadows!--his lips moved.

"France," was the whispered reply.

"Advance and give the countersign!" I urged.

"Jesu--" he murmured faintly. I drew from my breast the cross that
Mathilde had given me, and pressed it to his lips. He sighed softly,
lifted his hand to it, and then fell back, never to speak again.

After covering his face and decently laying the body out, I mounted the
horse again. Glancing up, I saw that this bad business had befallen not
twenty feet from a high Calvary at the roadside.

I was in a painful quandary. Did Labrouk mean that the countersign was
"Jesu," or was that word the broken prayer of his soul as it hurried
forth? So strange a countersign I had never heard, and yet it might be
used in this Catholic country. This day might be some great feast of the
Church--possibly that of the naming of Christ (which was the case, as
I afterwards knew). I rode on, tossed about in my mind. So much hung on
this. If I could not give the countersign, I should have to fight my
way back again the road I came. But I must try my luck. So I went on,
beating up my heart to confidence; and now I came to the St. Louis Gate.
A tiny fire was burning near, and two sentinels stepped forward as I
rode boldly on the entrance.

"Qui va la?" was the sharp call.

"France," was my reply, in a voice as like the peasant's as possible.

"Advance and give the countersign," came the demand.

Another voice called from the darkness of the wall: "Come and drink,
comrade; I've a brother with Bougainville."

"Jesu," said I to the sentinel, answering his demand for the
countersign, and I spurred on my horse idly, though my heart was
thumping hard, for there were several sturdy fellows lying beyond the
dull handful of fire.

Instantly the sentinel's hand came to my bridle-rein. "Halt!" roared he.

Surely some good spirit was with me then to prompt me, for, with a
careless laugh, as though I had not before finished the countersign,
"Christ," I added--"Jesu Christ!"

With an oath the soldier let go the bridle-rein, the other opened the
gates, and I passed through. I heard the first fellow swearing roundly
to the others that he would "send yon courier to fires of hell, if he
played with him again so."

The gates closed behind me, and I was in the town which had seen the
worst days a