he undoubtedly felt. But as the Grand Master paused--

"M. de Biron," he said, in a voice harsh and low, "you will answer to me
for this!" And his eyes glittered through the slits in the mask.

"Possibly, but not to-day or to-morrow!" Biron replied, shrugging his
shoulders contemptuously. "Peridol! see the gentleman bestowed as I have
ordered, and then return to me. Monsieur," with a bow, half courteous,
half ironical, "let me commend to you the advantages of silence and your
mask." And he waved his hand in the direction of the door.

A moment Count Hannibal hesitated. He was in the heart of a hostile
fortress where the resistance of a single man armed to the teeth must
have been futile; and he was unarmed, save for a poniard. Nevertheless,
for a moment the impulse to spring on Biron, and with the dagger at his
throat to make his life the price of a safe passage, was strong. Then--for
with the warp of a harsh and passionate character were interwrought an
odd shrewdness and some things little suspected--he resigned himself.
Bowing gravely, he turned with dignity, and in silence followed the
officer from the room.

Peridol had two men in waiting at the door. From one of these the
lieutenant took a lanthorn, and, with an air at once sullen and
deferential, led the way up the stone staircase to the floor over that in
which M. de Biron had his lodging. Tavannes followed; the two guards
came last, carrying a second lanthorn. At the head of the staircase,
whence a bare passage ran, north and south, the procession turned right-
handed, and, passing two doors, halted before the third and last, which
faced them at the end of the passage. The lieutenant unlocked it with a
key which he took from a hook beside the doorpost. Then, holding up his
light, he invited his charge to enter.

The room was not small, but it was low in the roof, and prison-like, it
had bare walls and smoke-marks on the ceiling. The window, set in a deep
recess, the floor of which rose a foot above that of the room, was
unglazed; and through the gloomy orifice the night wind blew in, laden
even on that August evening with the dank mist of the river flats. A
table, two stools, and a truckle bed without straw or covering made up
the furniture; but Peridol, after glancing round, ordered one of the men
to fetch a truss of straw and the other to bring up a pitcher of wine.
While they were gone Tavannes and he stood silently waiting, until,
observ