sieur, is my last
word."

"Do not forget, M. de Luynes," he said--his suaveness all departed of
a sudden, and his tone full of menace and acidity--"do not forget that
when a wall may not be scaled it may be broken through."

"Aye, Monsieur, but many of those who break through stand in danger
of being crushed by the falling stones," I answered, entering into the
spirit of his allegory.

"There are many ways of striking," he said.

"And many ways of being struck," I retorted with a sneer.

Our words grew sinister, our eyes waxed fiery, and more might have
followed had not the door leading to the staircase opened at that moment
to admit Andrea himself. He came, elegant in dress and figure, with a
smile upon his handsome young face, whose noble features gave the lie
to St. Auban's assertion that he had been drawn from a squalid Sicilian
home. Such faces are not bred in squalor.

In utter ignorance of the cabal against him, he greeted St. Auban--who
was well known to him--with a graceful bow, and also Vilmorin, who stood
in the doorway with Malpertuis, and who at the sight of Mancini grew
visibly ill at ease. In coming to Choisy, the Vicomte had clearly
expected to do no more than second St. Auban in the duel which he
thought to see forced upon Andrea. He now realised that if a fight there
was, he might, by my presence, be forced into it. Malpertuis looked
fierce and tugged at his moustachios, whilst his companions returned
Andrea's salutation--St. Auban gravely, and Vilmorin hesitatingly.

"Ha, Gaston," said the boy, advancing towards me, "our host tells me
that two ladies who have been shipwrecked here wish to do me the honour
of occupying my apartments for an hour or so. Ha, there they are," he
added, as the two girls came suddenly forward. Then bowing--"Mesdames, I
am enchanted to set the poor room at your disposal for as long as it may
please you to honour it."

As the ladies--of whose presence St. Auban had been unaware--appeared
before us, I shot a glance at the Marquis, and, from the start he gave
upon beholding them, I saw that things were as I had suspected.

Before they could reply to Andrea, St. Auban suddenly advanced:

"Mesdemoiselles," quoth he, "forgive me if in this miserable light I did
not earlier discover your presence and offer you my services. I do so
now, with the hope that you will honour me by making use of them."

"Merci, M. de St. Auban," replied the dark-haired one--whom I guessed
to