"these will make us equal. You are mistaken as to
my intentions. I had no thought of playing the spy; it was chance alone
that led me here; and you must acknowledge that finding you in this
lonely spot, engaged as you are at this hour of the night, was quite
enough to awake the curiosity of a man as little disposed to provoke a
quarrel as to submit to threats."

"It was chance also that brought us here. We were crossing the square,
my friend and I, when we heard groans. We followed the sound, and found
this young gallant, who is a stranger to us, lying here, with a wound in
his breast."

As the moon at that moment gleamed doubtfully forth, Maitre Quennebert
bent for an instant over the body of the wounded man, and said:

"I know him more than you. But supposing someone were to come upon
us here, we might easily be taken for three assassins holding a
consultation over the corpse of our victim. What were you going to do?"

"Take him to a doctor. It would be inhuman to leave him here, and while
we are talking precious time is being lost."

"Do you belong to this neighbourhood?"

"No," said the treasurer.

"Neither do I," said Quennebert, "but I believe I have heard the name of
a surgeon who lives close by, in the rue Hauteville."

"I also know of one," interposed de Jars, "a very skilful man."

"You may command me."

"Gladly, monsieur; for he lives some distance from here."

"I am at your service."

De Jars and Jeannin raised the chevalier's shoulders, and the stranger
supported his legs, and carrying their burden in this order, they set
off.

They walked slowly, looking about them carefully, a precaution rendered
necessary by the fact that the moon now rode in a cloudless sky. They
glided over the Pont Saint-Michel between the houses that lined both
sides, and, turning to the right, entered one of the narrow streets of
the Cite, and after many turnings, during which they met no one, they
stopped at the door of a house situated behind the Hotel-de-Ville.

"Many thanks, monsieur," said de Jars,--"many thanks; we need no further
help."

As the commander spoke, Maitre Quennebert let the feet of the chevalier
fall abruptly on the pavement, while de Jars and the treasurer still
supported his body, and, stepping back two paces, he drew his pistols
from his belt, and placing a finger on each trigger, said--

"Do not stir, messieurs, or you are dead men." Both, although encumbered
by their burden, laid their h