age of truth, monsieur. All else is
foreign."

"Where did the nobility learn this tongue--to our exclusion?" I
asked, bluntly.

"When our forefathers faced the tribunals!" she flashed out. "Did
you ever hear of a spy among us? Did you ever hear of a lie among
us?"

"You have been taught history by your peers, madame," I said, with a
bow; "I have been taught history by mine."

"The sorry romance!" she said, bitterly. "It has brought me to
this!"

"It has brought others to their senses," I said, sharply.

"To their knees, you mean!"

"Yes--to their knees at last."

"To the guillotine--yes!"

"No, madame, to pray for their native land--too late!"

"I think," she said, "that we are not fitted to understand each
other."

"It remains," I said, "for me to thank you for your kindness to us
all, and for your generosity to me in my time of need.... It is quite
useless for me to dream of repaying it.... I shall never forget it....
I ask leave to make my adieux, madame."

She flushed to her temples, but did not answer.

As I stood looking at her, a vivid flare of light flashed through the
window behind me, crimsoning the walls, playing over the ceiling with
an infernal radiance. At the same instant the gate outside crashed
open, a hubbub of voices swelled into a roar; then the outer doors
were flung back and a score of men sprang into the hallway, soldiers
with the red torch-light dancing on rifle-barrels and bayonets.

And before them, revolver swinging in his slender hand, strode
Buckhurst, a red sash tied across his breast, his colorless eyes like
diamonds.

Speed and Jacqueline came hurrying through the hall to where I stood;
Buckhurst's smile was awful as his eyes flashed from Speed to me.

Behind him, close to his shoulder, the torch-light fell on Mornac's
smooth, false face, stretched now into a ferocious grimace; behind him
crowded the soldiers of the commune, rifles slung, craning their
unshaven faces to catch a glimpse of us.

"Demi-battalion, halt!" shouted an officer, and flung up his naked
sabre.

"Halt," repeated Buckhurst, quietly.

Madame de Vassart's servants had come running from kitchen and stable
at the first alarm, and now stood huddled in the court-yard,
bewildered, cowed by the bayonets which had checked them.

"Buckhurst," I said, "what the devil do you mean by this foolery?"
and I started for him, shouldering my way among his grotesque escort.

For an instant I looked into his