the patch of borage, which lay between the hut and the thorn hedge, beyond which de Gomeron was awaiting me. When I came up I found him standing with his back to the moon. He had thrown off his doublet, and was in his shirt sleeves, which were rolled up to his elbows, and Nicholas and the men stood a little on one side, utterly forgetful of the prisoners, and eager as bloodhounds to witness the coming fight. It took but a half minute to make myself ready, and borrowing a poniard from Nicholas to help me to parry, for de Gomeron held one in his left hand, and I was determined to give him no further advantage—he already had the light—I took my position. Then there was an angry little clash and our blades met, looking for all the world like two thin streaks of fire in the moonlight. I began the attack at once in the lower lines, but soon found that my adversary was a master of his weapon, and his defence was complete. We were both sober enough now, besides being in deadly earnest, and de Gomeron began to change his tactics and attack in his turn. He was more than cunning of fence, thrusting high at my throat to get as much of the reflection of the moon as possible on his blade, and so dazzle my eyes; but this was a game I had played before, and seeing this he disengaged, and making a beautiful feint, thrust low in tierce. The parry was just in time, but the point of his blade ripped me exactly over the heart, and dyed my shirt red with the blood of a flesh wound. The discipline of Nicholas and his men went to shreds at the sight of this, and there was a shout: 'Croix Dieu! He is lost!'

But a man's knowledge is not to be counted by his years, and Maître Touchet had himself placed a foil in my hand ere I was seven. The hair that stood between me and death as de Gomeron's point touched me cooled me to ice, and knowing that in a long-continued contest youth must tell, I began to feign retreat, and give back slowly, meaning to wind my opponent, and work him round to get a little of the moon in his eyes. De Gomeron took the bait and pressed his attack, with the result that he shifted his position of vantage, and in a while began to breathe heavily. At this point a cloud obscured the moonlight, and my opponent, springing back, called out: 'Hold! hold till the cloud passes! We cannot see.'

'But I can, messieurs,' answered a deep voice to our right. 'What means this fool's work?' and a tall figure, the white line of a drawn sword shining in its hand, stepped between us, coming, as it were, from nowhere. The cloud passed, and the moon was again brilliant and clear. The light fell on the commanding form before us, showing the high aquiline features and grizzled hair of de Rône himself. Nicholas and his men melted into thin air at the sight, and de Gomeron and I stood speechless. The wind caught the black plumes in the General's hat, waving them silently in the air, and brought to us the faint clink of a chain-bit—de Rône had evidently stolen upon us on foot, leaving his horse at a distance.

'So this is how my outposts are kept?' he said. 'M. de Gomeron, you are the senior officer here, and I await your explanation. Mordieu! It is something that I do this.'

'I command the guards of the Duc d'Aumale,' began de Gomeron sullenly, but de Rône interrupted him in the same deep measured voice.

'I know that. Your explanation, or,' and in fierce anger, 'by God! you will hang like a common thief by sunrise.'

'A gentleman must defend his honour. Orders or no orders. General, there are times when one must fight. There was a matter in connection with some prisoners, and I was struck by M. d'Auriac. I have nothing further to say.'

'Now, M. d'Auriac, what have you to say?'

'The prisoners will, perhaps, explain to your Excellency why I struck this man.'

'Take me to them.'

We gathered up our belongings, and, hastily dressing, led the way back to the hut. What de Gomeron's thoughts were I know not, but my own reflections were none of the most cheerful. We all knew de Rône, and knew that, his mind once made up, nothing could turn him. De Gomeron had some chance of escape, as of a certainty I was the open aggressor; but for myself, I saw poor de Gonnor lying under the elm trees, taking his last look at the sunlight, and my heart became like lead. But we had no great time for thought, as a few steps brought us to the door of the hut, where Nicholas and his men stood at the salute with scared faces. Another step took us in, and de Rône, with a curling lip, cast a glance around the room, at the emptied wine flasks and the dice, which latter one of the men had doubtless picked up, and placed in a small heap beside the rouleau I had won. But chairs, table, wine flasks, and dice were all the room contained, and there was reason enough for the extra length of visage that master Nicholas and his knaves had pulled.

'I do not see the prisoners,' said de Rône quietly.

It was not likely, I thought to myself. They were gone—not a doubt of that. On the floor, near my feet, were some cut cords, and, lying on them, a knot of black and white ribbon, that had fallen there as if by chance. I had seen it last at the shoulder of Madame's dress, and something told me it was not there by accident. There was, at any rate, no hope for me from the prisoners, but a sudden impulse I could not understand, nor, indeed, did I try to, urged me to get the knot of ribbon, so, stooping low, I picked up the bow and the cut cords, and, with a careless movement, flung the latter on the table, saying quietly, 'They have escaped, your Excellency.'

'And with them your explanation, M. d'Auriac, eh? Corbleu! But the camp-marshal will have his hands full to-morrow;' and Nicholas' halberd all but fell from his hands as the General's eye rested on him. I had nothing to say; and de Rône went on. 'M. de Gomeron, you have given me a reason for your conduct that will hold good this once. Further orders will reach you at daylight about your neglect of your prisoners. As for you,' and he turned on me with the sharp command, 'Follow me. You—knaves! fetch me my horse—he is tethered to the clump of elms to the right there.'

Two men vanished from the door to do his bidding, and I adjusted my attire as well as I might, taking the opportunity to secrete the knot of ribbon. In a minute or so we heard the sound of horses' hoofs, and as we went out, I saw there were two beasts at the door, and, from the whinny of welcome that came to me, that one was mine, and Nicholas was at his head.

As I sprang into the saddle the good fellow leaned forward and whispered, 'Make a dash for it. Chevalier, and change the flag.'

I shook my head and followed de Rône, who had already moved a few paces onwards. And yet, as I rode on, Nicholas' words came back to me with an insistent force. It was not possible for me to expect any other issue than the worst, after what had happened. My big Norman horse was fleet and strong; but a turn of my wrist, a touch of my spur, and we should be a hundred yards away before de Rône could realise what had happened; and then the road was clear to the banks of the Lelle, where the King was himself; yes, the King. He was that to me, in my heart, although loyalty to my family and its chiefs had made me throw in my lot with the little band of exiles who remained true to the dead legend of the League, and preferred to eat the bread of Spain rather than accept the great Frenchman who had fought his way to his birthright. Even now, whispers were stirring the air that the end was coming; that the Archduke was sick of the war; that d'Aumale pined for his stately park of Anet; that Mayenne had practically submitted, and the Guisard was himself unsteady. If so, why should not I, Alban de Breuil, whose crow's nest of Auriac was half in