ulders.

'EH BIEN!,' he said with marvellous composure. 'Taken at last! Well, I
was tired of it.'

'You are my prisoner, M. de Cocheforet,' I answered. 'Move a hand and I
kill you. But you have still a choice.'

'Truly?' he said, raising his eyebrows.

'Yes. My orders are to take you to Paris alive or dead. Give me your
parole that you will make no attempt to escape, and you shall go thither
at your ease and as a gentleman. Refuse, and I shall disarm and bind
you, and you go as a prisoner.'

'What force have you?' he asked curtly. He still lay on his elbow, his
cloak covering him, the little Marot in which he had been reading close
to his hand. But his quick black eyes, which looked the keener for the
pallor and thinness of his face, roved ceaselessly over me, probed the
darkness behind me, took note of everything.

'Enough to compel you, Monsieur,' I replied sternly; 'but that is not
all. There are thirty dragoons coming up the hill to secure you, and
they will make you no such offer. Surrender to me before they come, and
give me your parole, and I will do all I can for your comfort. Delay,
and you must fall into their hands. There can be no escape.'

'You will take my word?' he said slowly.

'Give it, and you may keep your pistols, M. de Cocheforet.'

'Tell me at least that you are not alone.'

'I am not alone.'

'Then I give it,' he said with a sigh. 'And for Heaven's sake get me
something to eat and a bed. I am tired of this pig-sty. MON DIEU! it is
a fortnight since I slept between sheets.'

'You shall sleep to-night in your own house, if you please,' I answered
hurriedly. 'But here they come. Be good enough to stay where you are for
a moment, and I will meet them.'

I stepped out into the darkness, just as the Lieutenant, after posting
his men round the hollow, slid down with a couple of sergeants to make
the arrest. The place round the open door was pitch-dark. He had not
espied my man, who had lodged himself in the deepest shadow of the hut,
and when he saw me come out across the light he took me for
Cocheforet. In a twinkling he thrust a pistol into my face, and cried
triumphantly,--'You are my prisoner!' while one of the sergeants raised
a lanthorn and threw its light into my eyes.

'What folly is this?' I said savagely.

The Lieutenant's jaw fell, and he stood for a moment paralysed with
astonishment. Less than an hour before he had left me at the Chateau.
Thence he had come hither with the