nd thrown to the ground, his assailant whispering to
him as he held him down with a grasp like that of a vice, "Keep quiet,
good Master Jean. This business does not concern you, and you shall be
set free in a minute or two."

Jean Perigord had too brave a heart for that, however, and he struggled
to get loose. He succeeded in raising himself a little, but it was
only to hear a shriek, and to see the unhappy girl borne past him by
two men, who carried her down the steps and placed her in a boat that
lay at the landing-place. The next moment he saw two other men
carrying past him what seemed to be the figure of a man struggling in
the folds of a cloak that had apparently been thrown over him. The
muffled form was thrown into the same boat, which was then instantly
shoved off.

"Now, my good Jean," said the man, as he let go his hold of the
innkeeper, "just go home and keep your tongue quiet--it will be best
for you. I shall have an eye on you, and if you blab about what you
have seen, why you will stand a good chance of sharing the same fate as
your friends yonder. They have been arrested under the king's _lettre
de cachet_, and if you meddle in the matter you are a dead man."

Half an hour later Monsieur de Crillon received the report of his chief
_employe_, which was to the effect that the young marquis had been
overheard whilst discovering himself to Jean Perigord, and that he and
the young female who had previously reached the "Great Gun" had been
seized and conveyed to the prison of Bouffay, where they awaited
Monsieur de Crillon's further orders. "Let the horses be got ready and
brought round at once," was the reply, and his follower retired to give
directions accordingly.

In the meanwhile Jean Perigord had returned to his house in dire dismay
at what had taken place, and his anxiety was heightened, if that were
possible, by the reflection that he had very likely been made the means
of decoying poor Marguerite into a trap. He could not help fearing,
moreover, that the figure he had seen carried past him and thrown into
the boat had been that of the poor young fellow her husband, who had
doubtless been captured on the quay as he was landing. Without a
thought about closing his house as usual, he threw himself into a chair
and groaned aloud. What was he to do? Now he resolved to seek out the
Marquis de Beaujardin at the Hotel Turenne; now again he shrank from
such a step as he remembered that terrible