it was no
wonder that in the course of months the chance word had passed out of
my head, and I had clean forgotten the subject of it. Here however, he
was before my eyes, and seeing him; I saw too what the discovery meant.
It meant a most joyful thing! a most wonderful thing which I longed to
tell Croisette and Marie. It meant that our Louis de Pavannes--my
cheek burned for my want of faith in him--was no villain after all, but
such a noble gentleman as we had always till this day thought him! It
meant that he was no court gallant bent on breaking a country heart for
sport, but Kit's own true lover! And--and it meant more--it meant that
he was yet in danger, and still ignorant of the vow that unchained
fiend Bezers had taken to have his life! In pursuing his namesake we
had been led astray, how sadly I only knew now! And had indeed lost
most precious time.

"Your wife, M. de Pavannes"--I began in haste, seeing the necessity of
explaining matters with the utmost quickness. "Your wife is--"

"Ah, my wife!" he cried interrupting me, with anxiety in his tone.
"What of her? You have seen her!"

"I have. She is safe at your house in the Rue de St. Merri."

"Thank Heaven for that!" he replied fervently. Before he could say
more Captain Andrea interrupted us. I could see that his suspicions
were aroused afresh. He pushed rudely between us, and addressing me
said, "Now, young sir, your boat is ready."

"My boat?" I answered, while I rapidly considered the situation. Of
course I did not want to cross the river now. No doubt Pavannes--this
Pavannes--could guide me to Louis' address. "My boat?"

"Yes, it is waiting," the Italian replied, his black eyes roving from
one to the other of us.

"Then let it wait!" I answered haughtily, speaking with an assumption
of anger. "Plague upon you for interrupting us! I shall not cross the
river now. This gentleman can give me the information I want. I shall
take him back with me."

"To whom?"

"To whom? To those who sent me, sirrah!"

I thundered. "You do not seem to be much in the Duke's confidence,
captain," I went on; "now take a word of advice from me! There is
nothing: so easily cast off as an over-officious servant! He goes too
far--and he goes like an old glove! An old glove," I repeated grimly,
sneering in his face, "which saves the hand and suffers itself. Beware
of too much zeal, Captain Pallavicini! It is a dangerous thing!"

He turned pal