r of his purpose.
For a second her wrists were released; then she felt his arms going
round her as the coils of a snake go round its prey. With a sudden
reassertion of self, with a panting gasp of horror, she tore herself
free. An oath broke from him as he sprang after her. Then the unexpected
happened. Above his head something bright flashed up, then down. There
was a dull crack, and the Captain stopped short in his rush; his hands
were jerked to the height of his breast, and like a pole-axed beast he
dropped and lay prone at her feet.

Across his fallen body she beheld La Boulaye standing impassively, the
ghost of a smile on his thin lips, and in his hand one of the heavy
silver candlesticks from the table.

Whilst a man might count a dozen they stood so with no word spoken.
Then:

"It was a cowardly blow, Citoyenne," said the Deputy in accents of
regret; "but what choice had I?" He set down the candlestick, and
kneeling beside Charlot, he felt for the Captain's heart. "The door,
Citoyenne," he muttered. "Lock it."

Mechanically, and without uttering a word, she hastened to do his
bidding. As the key grated in the lock he rose.

"It has only stunned him," he announced. "Now to prepare an explanation
for it."

He drew a chair under the old brass lamp, that hung from the ceiling. He
mounted the chair, and with both hands he seized the chain immediately
above the lamp. Drawing himself up, he swung there for just a second;
then the hook gave way, and amid a shower of plaster La Boulaye
half-tumbled to the ground.

"There," said he, as he dropped the lamp with its chain and hook upon
the floor by Charlot. "It may not be as convincing as we might wish,
but I think that it will prove convincing enough to the dull wits of
the landlady, and of such of Charlot's followers as may enter here. I am
afraid," he deplored, "that it will be some time before he recovers. He
was so far gone in wine that it needed little weight to fell him."

Her glance met his once more, and she took a step towards him with hands
outstretched.

"Monsieur, Monsieur!" she cried. "If you but knew how in my thoughts I
wronged you a little while ago."

"You had all reason to," he answered, taking her hands, and there came
the least softening of his stern countenance. "It grieved me to add to
your affliction. But had I permitted him to do so much as suspect that
I was anything but your implacable enemy, I had no chance of saving you.
He would ha