voice. "I wished not to have displayed my men at all had it been possible to avoid it, but it could not be helped. However, you had better not show yourself with us. It may make mischief."

"But the lady," said Bernard de Rohan, "the lady: let me go and speak to her and set her free: I have no fear of being seen."

"Leave it to me, leave it to me," said the brigand. "You shall have opportunity enough to speak with her, and she shall know who is her deliverer. Will you not trust me after all this night's work?"

"Entirely," replied Bernard de Rohan; "but it is natural, when one aids a lady in scenes like these, to wish to speak with her, to sooth and tranquillize her."

"Especially when one loves her," replied the brigand, laughing. "But you shall speak with her in a moment, only keep back for the present."

Bernard de Rohan had neither the will nor the power to resist. The brigand, indeed, might well assume the tone of command, for at that moment there could be no successful opposition to his will; but, besides this consideration, there were other feelings in the bosom of the young cavalier which inclined him to yield at once.

Everything that he had seen was calculated to surprise and perplex him. The knowledge which his strange companion seemed to have of his history and circumstances; the state of active preparation in which he had found him, as if he had been aware, long before, of all that was about to occur, and had taken measures to meet every contingency; the interest which he had shown in an enterprise that seemed not to concern him at all, and the active and vehement opposition he had evinced to persons apparently engaged in the same trade of violence with himself, were all unaccountable to Bernard de Rohan; and he paused with some anxiety to see what would be the next act in the strange drama in which he himself was bearing a part.

While the brief conversation which I have narrated took place between the brigand and the young cavalier, the successful party had drawn closer and closer round their adversaries, and were busily disarming and tying them. This operation, being carried on with great dexterity and rapidity, had advanced considerably, when Leon again strode forward into the midst of them to give farther directions.

"Not so tight! not so tight, Antoine!" he said: "you'll cut his wrists with those thongs. Take off his corslet, Pierre. You cannot get it off when his arms are tied. If he resists, pitch him over into the stream. That horse will break away and be lost. Some of you come and untie my Lord of Masseran and his people. Noble signior," he continued, and Bernard de Rohan thought that he heard a good deal of bitter mockery in his tone, "I pray you tell me what is to be done with these insolent villains, who have dared to lay violent hands upon you and your lady wife's fair daughter. Shall we either put them to death on the spot—which, perhaps, would be the wisest plan, as the dead are very silent—or shall we send them, bound hand and foot, to your chateau, that you may give them your own directions as to what they are to say and do?"

These words were addressed to a tall, graceful man, somewhere between forty and fifty years of age, who had appeared as one among the prisoners of the party just overthrown. He seemed not particularly well pleased with the brigand's speech, and replied in a tone somewhat sullen, "You must do with them as you please, sir, and with us also, though from your words I suppose that you mean us good and not evil."

"Oh, certainly, my good lord," replied the other; "I am here to free you, and you shall be safely conducted by my people to your own abode. Am I, by your authority, then, to treat these men as they deserve?"

The Lord of Masseran seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then replied sharply, "By all means! By all means! They well deserve punishment."

"Oh! spare them! spare them!" cried a lady's voice. "They have done evil, certainly; but they might have treated us worse. Do not hurt them, sir."

"Lady," replied the brigand, "I will only punish them as they deserve, and you yourself shall hear the sentence. Strip off every man's coat. Take off the bridles of their horses, and therewith flog them down the valley to Gandelot's inn. When they are there, they will know what to do with themselves. Now, lady, this is but small measure of retribution for bad acts. Quick, my men, quick. You must take them over the hill, for the bridge is broken."

He then spoke a few words to one of his companions in a low tone; after which he returned once more to Bernard de Rohan, who had remained behind, asked particularly after the wounds he had received, and inquired whether he were fit to escort a lady some two leagues that night. He spoke with a smile, and there was no hesitation in the young cavalier's reply. Before their short conversation was ended, the brigand's orders in regard to his prisoners were in the act of execution; and certain it is that the discipline to which they were subjected was sufficiently severe, if one might judge by many a piteous cry which echoed up the valley for some minutes after they were driven in a crowd down the road. The young lady covered her eyes with her hands and remained silent; but a grim smile came upon the countenance of the Lord of Masseran, as if there was something pleasant to him in the music of human suffering.

There were still some ten or twelve of Leon's band around, and their next task was to untie the hands of such of the Lord of Masseran's people as were still bound. "Now, sir," continued the brigand, as soon as this was accomplished, "you shall have good escort back to your chateau. But we must go in separate parties. You and your four servants under the careful protection of Elois here, by the mountain path you know of. The young lady I myself will escort by the longer, but the smoother road."

"Nay! nay!" exclaimed the Lord of Masseran, quickly. "Why separate us? If you mean well by her, why not let—"

"Because it pleases me not," replied the brigand, in a stern tone. "Who is lord here upon the side of the mountain but I? You are lord in your chateau, and none dare answer you. But I am lord in the moonlight and on the hillside, and none shall answer me."

"Oh! in pity, in pity!" exclaimed the young lady, holding out her hands with a gesture of entreaty. But the brigand advanced to her horse's side, and spoke a word to her in a low tone. She let her hands drop again without reply, and Bernard de Rohan, who had remained in the shade, while the moonlight fell full upon her, could see her eyes suddenly turn towards the spot where he stood.

"Lead on the Lord of Masseran, Elois," said the voice of Corse de Leon. "Leave that poor fellow who seems wounded with the lady, and take the rest with you."

There was no reply, and the Savoyard nobleman, with his companions, was led on by a strong party of the brigands up the valley, and then across the stream. As he passed Bernard de Rohan, he fixed his eyes upon him for a moment, but made no observation; and, at the same time, the brigand held up his finger to the young cavalier, as if directing him still to forbear for a time.

As soon as the hill hid the other party from their sight, Bernard de Rohan, unable to bear the restraint any longer, sprang forward to the lady's side, and threw his arms around her. His head was bare, and, as he looked up towards her, the moonlight fell full upon his face. As if still doubtful, however, she gazed wildly and eagerly upon him; parted the curls of his hair with her hands back from his forehead; then threw her arms round his neck, and, bending her head, wept upon his shoulder.