that of a sudden I
had conceived.

CHAPTER XXIV. OF THE PASSING OF ST. AUBAN

Dame! What an ado there was next day in Blois, when the news came that
the troopers had installed themselves at the Chateau de Canaples and
that the Chevalier had been arrested for treason by order of the Lord
Cardinal, and that he would be taken to Paris, and--probably--the
scaffold.

Men gathered in little knots at street corners, and with sullen brows
and threatening gestures they talked of the affair; and the more
they talked, the more clouded grew their looks, and more than one
anti-cardinalist pasquinade was heard in Blois that day.

Given a leader those men would have laid hands upon pikes and muskets,
and gone to the Chevalier's rescue. As I observed them, the thought did
cross my mind that I might contrive a pretty fight in the rose garden of
Canaples were I so inclined. And so inclined I should, indeed, have been
but for the plan that had come to me like an inspiration from above, and
which methought would prove safer in the end.

To carry out this plan of mine, I quitted Blois at nightfall, with my
two knaves, having paid my reckoning at the Lys de France, and given
out that we were journeying to Tours. We followed the road that leads to
Canaples, until we reached the first trees bordering the park. There
I dismounted, and, leaving Abdon to guard the horses, I made my way on
foot, accompanied by Michelot, towards the garden.

We gained this, and were on the point of quitting the shadow of the
trees, when of a sudden, by the light of the crescent moon, I beheld
a man walking in one of the alleys, not a hundred paces from where we
stood. I had but time to seize Michelot by the collar of his pourpoint
and draw him towards me. But as he trod precipitately backwards a twig
snapped 'neath his foot with a report that in the surrounding stillness
was like a pistol shot.

I caught my breath as he who walked in the garden stood still, his face,
wrapped in the shadows of his hat, turned towards us.

"Who goes there?" he shouted. Then getting no reply he came resolutely
forward, whilst I drew a pistol wherewith to welcome him did he come too
near.

On he came, and already I had brought my pistol to a level with his
head, when fortunately he repeated his question, "Who goes there?"--and
this time I recognised the voice of Montresor, the very man I could then
most wish to meet.

"Hist! Montresor!" I called softly. "'T is I--