om the sudden
burst of light was not John Armitage, but Captain Claiborne.

The perspiration on Claiborne's face had made a paste of the dirt from
the potato sack, which gave him a weird appearance. He grinned broadly,
adding a fantastic horror to his visage which caused Zmai to leap back
toward the door. Then Chauvenet cried aloud, a cry of anger, which
brought Durand into the hall at a jump. Claiborne shrugged his shoulders,
shook the blood into his numbed arms; then turned his besmeared face
toward Durand and laughed. He laughed long and loud as the stupefaction
deepened on the faces of the two men.

The objects which Durand held caused Claiborne to stare, and then he
laughed again. Durand had caught up from a hook in Armitage's room a
black cloak, so long that it trailed at length from his arms, its red
lining glowing brightly where it lay against the outer black. From the
folds of the cloak a sword, plucked from a trunk, dropped upon the floor
with a gleam of its bright scabbard. In his right hand he held a silver
box of orders, and as his arm fell at the sight of Claiborne, the gay
ribbons and gleaming pendants flashed to the floor.

"It is not Armitage; we have made a mistake!" muttered Chauvenet tamely,
his eyes falling from Claiborne's face to the cloak, the sword, the
tangled heap of ribbons on the floor.

Durand stepped forward with an oath.

"Who is the man?" he demanded.

"It is my friend Captain Claiborne. We owe the gentleman an apology--"
Chauvenet began.

"You put it mildly," cried Claiborne in English, his back to the
fireplace, his arms folded, and the smile gone from his face. "I don't
know your companions, Monsieur Chauvenet, but you seem inclined to the
gentle arts of kidnapping and murder. Really, Monsieur--"

"It is a mistake! It is unpardonable! I can only offer you
reparation--anything you ask," stammered Chauvenet.

"You are looking for John Armitage, are you?" demanded Claiborne hotly,
without heeding Chauvenet's words. "Mr. Armitage is not here; he was in
Storm Springs to-night, at my house. He is a brave gentleman, and I warn
you that you will injure him at your peril. You may kill me here or
strangle me or stick a knife into me, if you will be better satisfied
that way; or you may kill him and hide his body in these hills; but, by
God, there will be no escape for you! The highest powers of my government
know that I am here; Baron von Marhof knows that I am here. I have an
engage