pistoles. Then, recovering, himself a little, he cried:

"But she--mademoiselle?"

"You need give yourself no uneasiness there," I said. "Mademoiselle
hates him."

"Does she know--"

"I think she understands quite well what Lucas is," I made answer.
"Monsieur, I must tell you everything that happened from the beginning,
or I shall never make it clear to you."

"Yes, yes, go on," he cried.

He sat down at table again, with the intention of eating his dinner as I
talked, but precious few mouthfuls he took. At every word I spoke he got
deeper into the interest of my tale. I never talked so much in my life,
me, as I did those few days. I was always relating a history, to
Monsieur, to mademoiselle, to M. Etienne, to--well, you shall know.

I had finished at length, and he burst out at me:

"You little scamp, you have all the luck! I never saw such a boy! Well
do they call you Felix! Mordieu, here I lie lapped in bed like a baby,
while you go forth knight-erranting. I must lie here with old Galen for
all company, while you bandy words with the Generalissimo himself! And
make faces at Lucas, and kiss the hands of mademoiselle! But I'll stand
it no longer. I'm done with lying abed and letting you have all the fun.
No; to-day I shall take part myself."

"But monsieur's arm--"

"Pshaw, it is well!" he cried. "It is a scratch--it is nothing. Pardieu,
it takes more than that to put a St. Quentin out of the reckoning.
To-day is no time for sloth; I must act."

"Monsieur--" I began, but he broke in on me:

"Nom de dieu, Felix, are we to sit idle while mademoiselle is carried
off by that beast Lucas?"

"Of course not," I said. "I was only trying to ask what monsieur meant
to do."

"To take the moon in my teeth," he cried.

"Yes, monsieur, but how?"

"Ah, if I knew!"

He stared at me as if he would read the answer in my face, but he found
it as blank as the wall. He flung away and made a turn down the room,
and came back to seize me by the arm.

"How are we to do it, Felix?" he demanded.

But I could only shrug my shoulders and answer:

"Sais pas."

He paced the floor once more, and presently faced me again with the
declaration:

"Lucas shall have her only over my dead body."

"He will only have her own dead body," I said.

He turned away abruptly and stood at the window, looking out with
unseeing eyes. "Lorance--Lorance," he murmured to himself. I think he
did not know he spoke aloud.

"If I could ge