oes it not seem a pity to spoil everything and to
neutralise so wonderful an achievement for the mere sake of boasting of
it to a poor, ignorant peasant, Monsieur le Vicomte Anatole d'Ombreval?"

With a sudden cry, the pseudo courier leapt to his feet, whilst Des
Cadoux turned on the stool he occupied to stare alarmedly at the
speaker.

"Name of God! Who are you?" demanded Ombreval advancing a step.

With his sleeve La Boulaye rubbed part of the disfiguring smear from his
face as he stood up and made answer coolly:

"I am that dirt of a Deputy whom you befooled at Boisvert." Then,
raising his voice, "Garin!" he shouted, and immediately the door opened
and the soldiers filed in.

Ombreval stood like a statue, thunderstruck with amazement at this
most unlooked-for turning of the tables, his face ashen, his weak mouth
fallen open and his eyes fearful.

Des Cadoux, who had also risen, seemed to take in the situation at a
glance. Like a well-bred gamester who knows how to lose with a good
grace the old gentleman laughed drily to himself as he tapped his
snuff-box.

"We are delightfully taken, cher Vicomte," he murmured, applying the
tobacco to his nostril as he spoke. "It's odds you won't be able to
repeat that pretty story to any more of your friends. I warned you that
you inclined to relate it too often."

With a sudden oath, Ombreval--moved to valour by the blind rage that
possessed him--sprang at La Boulaye. But, as suddenly, Garin caught his
arms from behind and held him fast.

"Remove them both," La Boulaye commanded. "Place them in safety for the
night, and see that they do not escape you, Garin, as you value your
neck."

Des Coudax shut his snuff-box with a snap.

"For my part, I am ready, Monsieur--your pardon--Citizen," he said, "and
I shall give you no trouble. But since I am not, I take it, included in
the orders you have received, I have a proposal to make which may prove
mutually convenient."

"Pray make it, Citizen," said La Boulaye.

"It occurs to me that it may occasion you some measure of annoyance to
carry me all the way to Paris--and certainly, for my part, I should
much prefer not to undertake the journey. For one thing, it will be
fatiguing, for another, I have no desire to look upon the next world
through the little window of the guillotine. I wish, then, to propose,
Citizen," pursued the old nobleman, nonchalantly dusting some fragments
of tobacco from his cravat, "that you deal with