rius's neck, like some fantastic figure of
a contemporary Saint George and a contemporary dragon. She pressed her
hands tighter upon her bosom; her eyes sparkled with an odd approval of
that brisk deed.

But Garnache's watchful eyes were upon the Dowager. He read the anxious
fear that marred the beauty of her face, and he took heart at the sight,
for he was dependent upon the extent to which he might work upon her
feelings.

"You smiled just now, madame, when it was intended to butcher a man
before your eyes. You smile no longer, I observe, at this the first of
the fine deeds I promised you."

"Let him go," she said, and her voice was scarce louder than a whisper,
horror-laden. "Let him go, monsieur, if you would save your own neck."

"At that price, yes--though, believe me, you are paying too much for so
poor a life as this. Still, you value the thing, and I hold it; and so
you'll forgive me if I am extortionate."

"Release him, and, in God's name, go your ways. None shall stay you,"
she promised him.

He smiled. "I'll need some security for that. I do not choose to take
your word for it, Madame de Condillac."

"What security can I give you?" she cried, wringing her hands, her eyes
on the boy's ashen face ashen from mingling fear and rage--where it
showed beyond Garnache's heavy boot.

"Bid one of your knaves summon my servant. I left him awaiting me in the
courtyard."

The order was given, and one of the cut-throats departed.

In a tense and anxious silence they awaited his return, though he kept
them but an instant.

Rabecque's eyes took on a startled look when he had viewed the
situation. Garnache called to him to deprive those present of their
weapons.

"And let none refuse, or offer him violence," he added, "or your
master's life shall pay the price of it."

The Dowager with a ready anxiety repeated to them his commands.
Rabecque, understanding nothing, went from man to man, and received from
each his weapons. He placed the armful on the windowseat, at the far
end of the apartment, as Garnache bade him. At the other end of the long
room, Garnache ordered the disarmed men to range themselves. When that
was done, the Parisian removed his foot from his victim's neck.

"Stand up," he commanded, and Marius very readily obeyed him.

Garnache placed himself immediately behind the boy. "Madame," said he,
"no harm shall come to your son if he is but wise. Let him disobey me,
or let any man in Condillac