a little by many experiences--a face that in its working
mobility and calm inscrutability might possibly have been the countenance
of a strolling player--was the face of a man still in the prime of life,
and carrying his years as lightly as if he were still little more than a
lad. He moved noiselessly from the bridge to the high-road, and came
cautiously upon the swashbucklers at the very moment when Passepoil was
saying, with a shiver: "I'm always afraid to hear Lagardere's voice cry
out Nevers's motto."

Even on the instant the man in the gypsy habit pushed his way between the
two bandits, laying a hand on each of their shoulders and saying three
words: "I am here!"

Cocardasse and Passepoil fell apart, each with the same cry in the same
amazed voice.

"Lagardere!" said Cocardasse, and his ruddy face paled.

"Lagardere!" said Passepoil, and his pale face flushed.

As for Lagardere, he laughed heartily at their confusion. "You are like
scared children whose nurse hears bogey in the chimney."

Cocardasse strove to seem amused. "Children!" he said, with a forced
laugh, and it was with a forced laugh that Passepoil repeated the word
"Bogey."

For a moment the good-humor faded from the face of Lagardere, and he
spoke grimly enough: "There were nine assassins in the moat at Caylus.
How many are left now?"

"Only three," Cocardasse answered.

Passepoil was more precise. "Cocardasse and myself and AEsop."

Lagardere looked at them mockingly. "Doesn't it strike you that AEsop will
soon be alone?"

Cocardasse shuddered. "It's no laughing matter."

Lagardere still continued to smile. "Vengeance sometimes wears a
sprightly face and smiles while she strikes."

Passepoil was now a sickly green. "A very painful humor," he stammered.

There was an awkward pause, and then Cocardasse suddenly spoke in a
decisive tone. "Captain, you have no right to kill us," he growled, and
Passepoil, nodding his long head, repeated his companion's phrase with
Norman emphasis.

Lagardere looked from one to the other of the pair, and there was a
twinkle in his eyes that reassured them. "Are you scared, old knaves? No
explanations; let me speak. That night in Caylus, seventeen years ago,
when the darkness quivered with swords, I did not meet your blades."

Cocardasse explained. "When you backed Nevers we took no part in the
scuffle."

"Nor did we join in hunting you later," Passepoil added, hurriedly.

Lagardere's face wore a look