nt's face. "But
we have sinned in ignorance. We are grateful to you for the warning."
He passed the comb into his left hand, and with his right fumbled in
his breeches' pocket, whence there came a faint jingle of coins. "We are
desolated to have brought you out of your way. Perhaps for their trouble
your men would honour us by stopping at the next inn to drink the health
of... of this M. de La Tour d' Azyr, or any other health that they think
proper."

Some of the clouds lifted from the sergeant's brow. But not yet all.

"Well, well," said he, gruffly. "But you must decamp, you understand."
He leaned from the saddle to bring his recipient hand to a convenient
distance. Andre-Louis placed in it a three-livre piece.

"In half an hour," said Andre-Louis.

"Why in half an hour? Why not at once?"

"Oh, but time to break our fast."

They looked at each other. The sergeant next considered the broad piece
of silver in his palm. Then at last his features relaxed from their
sternness.

"After all," said he, "it is none of our business to play the tipstaves
for M. de La Tour d'Azyr. We are of the marechaussee from Rennes."
Andre-Louis' eyelids played him false by flickering. "But if you linger,
look out for the gardes-champetres of the Marquis. You'll find them not
at all accommodating. Well, well--a good appetite to you, monsieur," said
he, in valediction.

"A pleasant ride, my captain," answered Andre-Louis.

The sergeant wheeled his horse about, his troop wheeled with him. They
were starting off, when he reined up again.

"You, monsieur!" he called over his shoulder. In a bound Andre-Louis was
beside his stirrup. "We are in quest of a scoundrel named Andre-Louis
Moreau, from Gavrillac, a fugitive from justice wanted for the gallows
on a matter of sedition. You've seen nothing, I suppose, of a man whose
movements seemed to you suspicious?"

"Indeed, we have," said Andre-Louis, very boldly, his face eager with
consciousness of the ability to oblige.

"You have?" cried the sergeant, in a ringing voice. "Where? When?"

"Yesterday evening in the neighbourhood of Guignen..."

"Yes, yes," the sergeant felt himself hot upon the trail.

"There was a fellow who seemed very fearful of being recognized ... a
man of fifty or thereabouts..."

"Fifty!" cried the sergeant, and his face fell. "Bah! This man of ours
is no older than yourself, a thin wisp of a fellow of about your own
height and of black hair, just like your o