rter of seven. This little scrap didn't take as much time as
you thought it would."

Oscar had mounted Armitage's horse and Claiborne stopped him as he rode
past on his way to the road.

"After you deliver Mr. Armitage's message, get a doctor and tell him to
be in a hurry about getting here."

"No!" began Armitage. "Good Lord, no! We are not going to advertise this
mess. You will spoil it all. I don't propose to be arrested and put in
jail, and a doctor would blab it all. I tell you, no!"

"Oscar, go to the hotel at the Springs and ask for Doctor Bledsoe. He's
an army surgeon on leave. Tell him I want him to bring his tools and come
to me at the bungalow. Now go!"

The conspirators' horses were brought up and Claiborne put Armitage upon
the best of them.

"Don't treat me as though I were a sick priest! I tell you, I feel bully!
If the prisoners will kindly walk ahead of us, we'll graciously ride
behind. Or we might put them both on one horse! Forward!"

Chauvenet and Durand, as they marched ahead of their captors, divided the
time between execrating each other and trying to make terms with
Armitage. The thought of being haled before Baron von Marhof gave them
great concern.

"Wait a few hours, Armitage--let us sit down and talk it all over. We're
not as black as your imagination paints us!"

"Save your breath! You've had your fun so far, and now I'm going to have
mine. You fellows are all right to sit in dark rooms and plot murder and
treason; but you're not made for work in the open. Forward!"

They were a worn company that drew up at the empty bungalow, where the
lamp and candles flickered eerily. On the table still lay the sword, the
cloak, the silver box, the insignia of noble orders.

CHAPTER XXVI

"WHO ARE YOU, JOHN ARMITAGE?"

"_Morbleu, Monsieur_, you give me too much majesty," said
the Prince.--_The History of Henry Esmond_.

"These gentlemen doubtless wish to confer--let them sequester
themselves!" and Armitage waved his hand to the line of empty
sleeping-rooms. "I believe Monsieur Durand already knows the way
about--he may wish to explore my trunks again," and Armitage bowed
to the two men, who, with their wrists tied behind them and a strap
linking them together, looked the least bit absurd.

"Now, Claiborne, that foolish Oscar has a first-aid kit of some sort that
he used on me a couple of weeks ago. Dig it out of his simple cell back
there and we'll clear up this mess in my shoul