e him!" cried the woman.

"Yes, we must save him!" repeated the husband, gloomily. "They shall
kill me before I betray a man in my own house."

"If he would hide in the stable behind the bundles of straw----"

"They would find him! These soldiers are worse than tigers, and the
wretch who leads them on must have the keen scent of a blood-hound."

He turned quickly to Lacheneur.

"Come, sir," said he, "let us leap from the back window and flee to the
mountains. They will see us, but no matter! These horsemen are always
clumsy runners. If you cannot run, I will carry you. They will probably
fire at us, but they will miss us."

"And your wife?" asked Lacheneur.

The honest mountaineer shuddered; but he said:

"She will join us."

Lacheneur took his friend's hand and pressed it tenderly.

"Ah! you are noble people," he exclaimed, "and God will reward you for
your kindness to a poor fugitive. But you have done too much already.
I should be the basest of men if I consented to uselessly expose you to
danger. I can bear this life no longer; I have no wish to escape."

He drew the sobbing woman to him and kissed her upon the forehead.

"I have a daughter, young and beautiful like yourself, as generous
and proud. Poor Marie-Anne! And I have pitilessly sacrificed her to my
hatred! I should not complain; come what may, I have deserved it."

The sound of approaching footsteps became more and more distinct.
Lacheneur straightened himself up, and seemed to be gathering all his
energy for the decisive moment.

"Remain inside," he said, imperiously, to Antoine and his wife. "I am
going out; they must not arrest me in your house."

As he spoke, he stepped outside the door, with a firm tread, a dauntless
brow, a calm and assured mien.

The soldiers were but a few feet from him.

"Halt!" he exclaimed, in a strong, ringing voice. "It is Lacheneur you
are seeking, is it not? I am he! I surrender myself."

An unbroken stillness reigned. Not a sound, not a word replied.

The spectre of death that hovered above his head imparted such an
imposing majesty to his person that the soldiers paused, silent and
awed.

But there was one man who was terrified by this resonant voice, and that
was Chupin.

Remorse filled his cowardly heart, and pale and trembling, he tried to
hide behind the soldiers.

Lacheneur walked straight to him.

"So it is you who have sold my life, Chupin?" he said, scornfully. "You
have not forgotten, I