oddly tip-tilted nose made a mock of
the austerity of the brow.

He was perfectly at ease in his surroundings, and as La Boulaye was
carried into the schoolmaster's study and laid on a couch, he came
forward and peered curiously at the secretary's figure, voicing an
inquiry concerning him.

"It is the young man of whom I was telling you, Maximilien," answered
Duhamel. "I give thanks to God that they have not killed him outright.
It is a mercy I had not expected from those wolves, and one which, on my
soul, I cannot understand."

"Monsieur," said Gilles, "will understand it better perhaps if I tell
you that the Marquis believes him to be dead. He was cut down for dead,
and when we discovered that he still lived it was Mademoiselle who
prevailed upon us to save him. She is paying us to keep the secret, but
not a fortune would tempt me if I thought the Seigneur were ever likely
to hear of it. He must be got away from Bellecour; indeed, he must be
got out of Picardy at once, Monsieur. And you must promise me that this
shall be done or we will carry him back to the Chateau and tell the
Marquis that he has suddenly revived. I must insist, Monsieur; for if
ever it should transpire that he was not dead the Seigneur would hang
us."

The stranger's weak eyes seemed to kindle in anger, and his lips curled
until they exaggerated the already preposterous tilt of his nose.

"He would hang you, eh?" said he. "Ma foi, Duhamel, we shall change all
this very soon, I promise you."

"God knows it needs changing," growled Duhamel. "It seems that it was
only in the Old Testament that Heaven interfered with human iniquity.
Why it does not rain fire and brimstone on the Chateau de Bellecour
passes the understanding of a good Christian. I'll swear that in neither
Sodom nor Gomorrah was villainy more rampant."

The stranger plucked at his sleeve to remind him of the presence of the
servants from the Chateau. Duhamel turned to them.

"I will keep him concealed here until he is able to get about," he
assured them. "Then I shall find him the means to leave the province."

But Gilles shook his head, and his companion grunted an echo of his
disapproval.

"That will not serve, master," he answered sullenly. "What if the
Seigneur should have word of his presence here? It is over-dangerous.
Someone may see him. No, no, Either he leaves Bellecour this very night,
and you swear that he shall, or else we carry him back to the Chateau."

"But