CHAPTER IX.

THE FOUR RASCALS

We rode southward at an easy pace, that mademoiselle might not be made to suffer from fatigue. Aside from the desirability of our reaching safe territory, there was no reason for great haste. M. de Varion had not yet been tried, and the attempt to deliver him from prison need not be made immediately. Time would be required in which I might form a satisfactory plan of action in this matter. It would be necessary to employ all my men in it, and to bring them secretly from Maury by night marches, but I must not take the first step until the whole design should be complete in my mind.

I suggested to mademoiselle that we first go to her father's house, in Fleurier, where she might get such of her belongings as she wished to take with her. But she desired to take no more along than was already in the portmanteaus that her boys, Hugo and Pierre, carried with them on their horses. She had come directly from Bourges with this baggage, having been visiting an unmarried aunt, in that city, when news of her father's arrest reached her.

When I questioned her as to her conduct on the reception of that news, her face clouded, and she showed embarrassment and a wish to avoid the subject. Nevertheless, she gave me answers, and I finally learned that her purpose on leaving Bourges had been to seek the governor of the province, immediately, and petition for her father's release. It was by accident that she had met M. de la Chatre at the inn, where she had stopped that her horses might be baited. My persistent, though deferential, inquiries elicited from her, in a wavering voice, that she had not previously possessed the governor's acquaintance; that her entreaties had evoked only the governor's wrathful orders to depart from the province on pain of sharing her father's fate; and that La Chatre had refused to allow her even to see her father in his dungeon in the Château of Fleurier.

Her agitation as she disclosed these things to me became so great that I presently desisted from pursuing the subject, and sought to restore brightness to the face of one whose tenderness and youth made her misfortune ineffably touching.

I found that, with a woman's intelligence, she had a child's ingenuousness. I had no difficulty in leading her to talk about herself. Artlessly she communicated to me the salient facts of her life. Her father, the younger son of a noble family, had passed his days in study on his little portion of land near Fleurier. Like myself, she had when very young become motherless. As for her education, her unmarried aunt had taught her those accomplishments which a woman can best impart, while her father had instructed her concerning the ancients, the arts, and the sciences. She had been to Paris but once, and knew nothing of the court.

Most of my conversation with mademoiselle was had while we traversed a deserted stretch of road, where I could, with safety, ride by her side and allow Blaise to take my place with the maid, Jeannotte. I could infer how deeply the good fellow had been smitten with the petite damsel by the means which he took to impress her in return. Far from showing himself as the wounded, sighing lover, he swelled to large dimensions, assumed his most martial frown, and carried himself as a most formidable personage. He boasted sonorously of his achievements in battle.

"And the scar on your forehead," I heard her say, as she inspected his visage with a coquettish side glance; "at what battle did you get that?"

His reply was uttered in a voice whose rancorous fierceness must have set the maid trembling.

"In the battle of the Rue Etienne," he said, "which was fought between myself and a hell-born Papist, on St. Bartholomew's night, in 1572. From the next house-roof, I had seen Coligny's body thrown, bleeding, from his own window into his courtyard, for I was one of those who were with him when his murderers came, and whom he ordered to flee. I ran from roof to roof, hoping to reach a house where a number of Huguenots were, that I might lead them back to avenge the admiral's murder. I dropped to the street and ran around a corner straight into the arms of one of the butchers employed by the Duke of Guise that night to decorate the streets of Paris with the best blood in France. Seeing that I did not wear the white cross on my arm, he was good enough to give me this red mark on my forehead. But in those days I was quick at repartee, and I gave him a similar mark on a similar place. Then I was knocked down from behind, and when I awoke it was the next day. The dogs had thought me dead. As for the man who gave me this mark, I have not seen him since, but for thirteen years I have prayed hard to the bountiful Father in Heaven to bring us together again some day, and the good God in His infinite kindness will surely do so!"

Now and then mademoiselle turned in her saddle to look behind. It was when she did this for the ninth or tenth time that she gave a start, and her lips parted with a half-uttered ejaculation of alarm. I followed her look and saw five mounted figures far behind us, on the road. It was most probable that these were De Berquin, Barbemouche, and the latter's three ragged comrades. But in this sight I found no reason to be disturbed. If mademoiselle was the object of De Berquin's quest, I felt that our party was sufficiently strong to protect her. If he had abandoned the intention of annoying her with further importunities, and was merely proceeding to Clochonne in order to act as the governor's spy against me, there could be no immediate danger in his presence, for he did not suspect that I was the Sieur de la Tournoire.

"Be assured, mademoiselle," I said, "you have nothing whatever to fear from M. de Berquin."

"I do not fear for myself," she replied, with a pathetic little smile. "It cannot be possible that, having seen me only once, he should put himself to so much trouble merely to inflict his attentions on me."

"Then you never saw him before the meeting at the inn to-day?" I asked, in surprise.

"Never. When he addressed me and introduced himself, I was surprised that he should already know my name."

I then recalled that the governor's secretary, Montignac, at one time, during his talk with De Berquin outside our window, had pointed towards the inn. Was it, then, of Mlle. de Varion that he had been talking? Montignac, of course, having witnessed the interview between mademoiselle and the governor, had learned her name. It must have been he who had communicated it to De Berquin. Had the subtle secretary entrusted the unscrupulous cavalier with some commission relative to mademoiselle, as well as with the task of betraying me? It was in vain that I tried to find satisfactory answers to these questions.

I asked mademoiselle whether she had ever known Montignac before this day.

"Never," she answered, with a kind of shudder, which seemed to express both abhorrence and fear. Again she grew reticent; again the shadow and the look of confusion appeared on her face. I could make nothing of these signs. To attempt a solution by interrogating her was only to cause her pain, and rather than do that I preferred to remain mystified.

Once more mademoiselle cast an uneasy look at the riders in the distance rearward.

"Ah!" said I, with a smile, "you have no fear for yourself, yet you continue to look back with an expression that very nearly resembles that of fright."

"I do not fear for myself," she said, quite artlessly; "it is for you that I fear. M. de Berquin will surely try to revenge himself for the humiliation you gave him."

A joyous thrill sent the blood to my cheeks. Without disguising my feelings, I turned and looked at her. Doubtless the gladness that shone in my eyes told her what was in my heart. Realizing that her frank and gentle demonstration of solicitude was a confession to be received with ineffable delight by the man to whom it was tendered, she dropped her eyes and a deep blush overspread her face. For some time no word passed between us; enough had been said. I knew that the look in my eyes had told more, a thousand times, than all the extravagant compliments with which I had, half banteringly, deluged her at the inn.

We might, by hard riding, have reached Maury on the night of that day, but mademoiselle's comfort was to be considered, and, moreover, I desired to throw De Berquin off our track before going to our hiding-place. Therefore, when Clochonne was yet some leagues before us, we turned into a by-way, and stopped at an obscure inn at the end of a small village. This hostelry was a mere hut, consisting of a kitchen and one other apartment, and was kept by an old couple as stupid and avaricious as any of their class. The whole place, such as it was, was at our disposal. The one private room was given over to mademoiselle and Jeannotte for the night, it being decided that I and Blaise should share the kitchen with the inn-keeper and his wife, while the two boys should sleep in an outer shed with the horses.

Roused from sluggishness by the sight of a gold piece, which Blaise displayed, the old couple succeeded in getting for us a passable supper, which we had served to us on the end of an old wine-butt outside the inn, as the kitchen was intolerably smoky.

"A poor place, mademoiselle," said I, ashamed of having conducted so delicate a creature to this miserable hovel.

"What would you have?" she replied, with a pretty attempt to cover her dejection by a show of cheerfulness. "One cannot flee, for one's liberty, through the forest, and live in a château at the same time."

As for the others, hunger and fatigue made any fare and shelter welcome. Blaise, in particular, found the wine acceptable. Conscious of the glances of Jeannotte, now flashing, now demure, he strove to outdo himself in one of his happiest accomplishments, that of drinking. The two boys, Hugo and Pierre, emulated his achievements, and only the presence of mademoiselle deterred our party from becoming a noisy one.

Blaise became more and more exuberant as he made the wine flow the more generously. Seeing a way of diverting mademoiselle from her sad thoughts, I set him to telling of the things he had done in battle when controlled by the sanguinary spirit of his father. He had a manner of narrating these deeds of slaughter, which took all the horror out of them, and made them rather comical than of any other description. He soon had mademoiselle smiling, the maid laughing, and the two boys looking on him with open-eyed admiration. Finding Jeannotte and the boys so well entertained, mademoiselle allowed them to remain with Blaise when she retired to her room.

I followed her to the inn door, and bade her rest without fear, assuring her that I would die ere the least harm should befall her.

"Nay," she answered smiling, "I would endure much harm rather than buy security at such a price."

For an instant her smooth and delicate fingers lay in mine. Then they were swiftly withdrawn, and she passed in, while I stood outside to muse, in the gathering dusk, upon the great change that had come over the world since my first meeting with her, six hours before. The very stars and sky seemed to smile upon me; the moonlight seemed to shine for me consciously with a greater softness; the very smell of the earth and grass and trees had grown sweeter to me. I thought how barren, though I had not known it, the world had been before this transformation, and how unendurable to me would be a return of that barrenness.

I rejoined the now somewhat boisterous party at the wine-butt in time to catch Blaise making an attempt to kiss Jeannotte, who was maintaining a fair pretence of resistance. She seemed rather displeased at my return, for as Blaise, unabashedly, continued his efforts, she was compelled, in order to make her coyness seem real to me, to break from him, and flee into the inn.

Blaise, in whom the spirit of his father was now manifestly gaming the ascendancy, consoled himself for the absence of Jeannotte by drinking more heroically and betaking to song. The boys labored assiduously to keep him company. Finally the stalwart fellow, Hugo, succumbed to the effects of the wine, and staggered off to the shed. Pierre followed him a few minutes later, and Blaise was left alone with the remains of the wine. The landlord and his wife had retired to rest, on their pallets on the kitchen floor, some time before. Blaise sat on a log, singing to himself and cursing imaginary enemies, until all the wine at hand was exhausted. Then he let me lead him into the kitchen, where he immediately dropped to the floor, rolled over on his back, and began snoring with the vigor that characterized all his vocal manifestations.

Making a pillow of my cloak, I lay down beside him, and tried to sleep; but the stale air of the kitchen, the new thoughts to which my mind clung with delight, the puzzling questions that sought to displace those thoughts, and the tremendous snoring of both the landlord and his wife, as well as of Blaise, made slumber impossible to me. I therefore rose, and went out of the inn. At a short distance away was a smooth, grassy knoll, now bathed in moonlight. I decided to make this my couch. I had proceeded only a few steps from the inn when the silence of the early night was disturbed by the sound of footsteps on the crisp, fallen leaves in the woods close at hand.

The smallness of the village and the obscurity of the locality gave importance to every sound, proceeding from a human source, at this hour. I, therefore, dropped behind the thick stump of a tree, where I might see and hear without being observed. Presently a figure emerged from the edge of the wood and moved cautiously towards the inn. It stopped, made a gesture towards the wood, and then continued its course. Three more figures then came out of the wood, one very tall, one exceedingly broad, and the third extremely thin. They came on with great caution, and finally joined the first comer near the inn. By this time I had recognized the leader as my old friend, Barbemouche. The others were his companions.

I awaited their further proceedings with curiosity. Was it in quest of us, at the behest of De Berquin, that they had come hither so cautiously and without their horses? Very probably. Doubtless, from afar, they had seen us turn into the byway which, as one or more of them perhaps knew, led to this inn and to no other. It was not likely that, having certainly made some bargain with De Berquin, and being moneyless, they had quitted his service so soon. Yet, if they were now carrying out orders of his against mademoiselle or against me, the supposed lackey who had incurred his wrath, why was he not with them? I hoped soon to see these questions answered by the doings of the rascals themselves.

The fat ruffian sank down, with a heavy sigh of relief, on the log where Blaise had sat. He pulled down with him the thin fellow, who had been clutching his arm as if for support. The latter had a wavy, yellow beard, a feminine manner, and a dandified air, as if he might once have been a fop at the court before descending to the rags which now covered him. The fat hireling had a face on which both good nature and pugnacity were depicted. At present he was puffing from his exertions afoot. The most striking figure of the group was that of the tall rascal. He was gaunt, angular and erect, throwing out his chest, and wearing a solemn and meditative mien upon his weather-beaten face. This visage, long enough in its frame-work, was further extended by a great, pointed beard. There was something of grandeur about this cadaverous, frowning, Spanish-looking wreck of a warrior, as he stood thoughtfully leaning upon a huge two-handed sword, which he had doubtless obtained in the pillage of some old armory.

"The place seems closed as tight as the gates of Heaven to a heretic," growled Barbemouche, scrutinizing the inn.

The tall fellow here awoke from his reverie, and spoke in solemn, deliberate tones:

"Would it not be well to wake up the landlord and try his wine?"

"Wake up the devil!" cried Barbemouche angrily. "Nobody is to be waked up. We are simply to find out whether they are here, and then go back to the Captain. Your unquenchable thirst will take you to hell before your time, François."

"It is astonishing," put in the fat fellow, looking at the tall, lean François, "how so few gallons of body can hold so many gallons of wine."

"Would I had your body to fill with wine, Antoine," said François, longingly; and then, casting an unhappy look at the inn, he added, "and the wine to fill it with."

"What are you shaking for, Jacques?" asked fat Antoine of his slim comrade at his side. "One would think you were afraid. Haven't you told us that love of fighting was the one passion of your life?"

"Death of the devil, so it is!" replied Jacques in a soft voice, and with a lisp worthy of one of the King's painted minions. "That is what annoys me, for if this insignificant matter should come to a fight, and I should accidentally be killed in so obscure an affair, how could I ever again indulge my passion for fighting?"

Meanwhile, Barbemouche had gone to the door and cautiously opened it, no one having barred it after my departure from the kitchen. I could hear the sound of Blaise's superb snoring, mingled with the less resonant efforts of the old couple. Barbemouche surveyed as much of the kitchen as the moonlight disclosed to him. Then he quietly shut the door and turned to his fellows.

"It is well," he said. "The gentleman himself is snoring his lungs away just inside the door. There is another room, and it is there that the women must be. The others are probably in the shed. Let us go quietly, as it would not be polite to disturb their sleep."

Whereupon Barbemouche led the way back to the woods, followed by fat Antoine, who toiled puffingly, Jacques, who stepped daintily and seemed fearful of treading on stones and briars, and last of all François, who moved at a measured pace, with long strides, retaining his air of profound meditation. The sound of the crushing of leaves beneath their feet became more distant, and finally died out entirely.

In vain I asked myself the meaning of this strange investigation. Manifestly the present object of De Berquin was nothing more than to keep himself informed of our whereabouts. But why had he sent all four of his henchmen to find out whether we were at this inn, when one would have sufficed? I abandoned the attempt to deduce what his exact intentions were. Drowsiness now coming over me, and the night air having grown colder, I repaired to the shed for the purpose of obtaining there the repose that had been denied me in the kitchen. I was satisfied in mind that whatever blow De Berquin intended to strike for the possession of mademoiselle, or for revenge upon myself, would be attempted at a time and place more convenient to him. Knowing that my slumbers invariably yielded to any unusual noise, I allowed myself to fall asleep on a pile of straw in the shed.

I know not how long I had slept, when I suddenly awoke with a start and sat upright. What noise had invaded my sleep, I could not, at that moment, tell. The place was then perfectly quiet, save for the regular breathing of the two boys, and an occasional movement of one of the horses. The shed was still entirely dark, excepting where a thin slice of moonlight entered at a crack. I sat still, listening.

Presently a low sound struck my ear, something between a growl and a groan. I quickly arose, left the shed, and ran to a clump of bushes at the side of the inn, whence the sound proceeded. Separating the bushes I saw, lying prone on the ground among them, the stalwart body of Blaise.

"What is the matter?" I cried. "Speak! Are you wounded?"

The only reply was a kind of muffled roar. Looking closer, I saw that Blaise's mouth and head were tightly bound by the detached sleeve of a doublet, and this had deterred him from articulating. I saw, also, that his legs had been tied together, and his hands fastened behind him with a rope.

I rapidly released his legs, and he stood up. Then I undid his hands, and he stretched out his arms with relief. Finally I unbound his mouth and he spoke:

"Oh, the whelps of hell! To fall on a man when he is sleeping off his wine, and tie him up like a trussed fowl! I will have the blood of every cursed knave of them! And the maid! Grandmother of the devil! They have taken the maid! Come, monsieur, let us cut them into pieces, and save the maid!"

But I held him back, and cried: "And mademoiselle, what of her? Speak, you drunken dog! Have you let her be harmed?"

"She is perfectly safe," he answered, in his turn holding me back from rushing to the inn. "I do not think that she was even awakened. What use to let her know what has happened? If we rescue the maid and the maid will hold her tongue, mademoiselle will never know what danger she has escaped."

"Or what vigilant protectors she has had to guard her sleep," I said, with bitter self-reproach, no longer daring to blame Blaise for a laxity of which I had been equally guilty. "You are right," I went on, "she must know nothing. Now tell me at once exactly what has occurred."

Blaise would rather have looked for his sword, and started off immediately to the rescue of the maid, but I made him stand with me in the shadow of the inn and relate.

"From the time when I fell asleep on the kitchen floor," he said, "I knew nothing until a little while ago, when I awoke, and found myself still where I had lain down, but tied up as you found me yonder. Four curs of hell were lifting me to carry me out. I tried to strike, but the deep sleep, induced by that cursed wine, had allowed them to tie me up as neatly as if I had been a dead deer. Neither could I speak, though I tried hard enough to curse, you may be sure. So they brought me out, and laid me down there by the inn-door. 'Would it not be best to stick a sword into him?' said one of the rascals, a soft speaking, womanish pup. A hungry-looking giant put the point of an old two-handed sword at my breast, as if to carry out the suggestion; but a heavy, black-bearded scoundrel, whose voice I think I have heard before, pushed the sword away and said: 'No, the captain has a quarrel to adjust with him in person. We are to concern ourselves entirely with the lady. Lay him yonder.' So they carried me over to the bushes. 'And now for the others,' said the giant. 'Why lose time over them?' said the burly fellow, who seemed to be the leader; 'they are sleeping like pigs in the shed. Come! We can do the business without waking them up,'

"So they left me lying on the ground and went into the inn again, very quietly. They must have gone, without waking the landlord or his wife, into the room of mademoiselle and her maid. Presently they came out again, carrying the maid. When they had gone about half way to the woods, they stopped and set her on her feet. So far, I suppose, it was the wine that kept her asleep; but now she awoke, and I could see her looking around, very scared, from one to the other of the four rascals. Then she gave a scream. At that instant, there came rushing from the woods, with his sword drawn, your friend, the Vicomte de Berquin. 'Stand off, rascals!' he shouted, as he ran up to them. They drew their weapons, and made a weak pretense of resisting him; then, when each one had exchanged a thrust with him, they all turned tail, and made off into the woods.

"M. de Berquin now turned to the maid, who had fallen to her knees in fright. Taking her hand, he said, 'Mademoiselle, I thank Heaven I arrived in time to give you the aid your own escort failed to afford. Perhaps now you will be the less unwilling to accept my protection!'--the maid now looked up at him, and he got a good view of her face. He started back as if hell had opened before him, threw her hand from his, turned towards the woods, and shouted to the four rascals, 'You whelps of the devil, you have made a mistake and brought the maid!' He was about to follow them, when it probably occurred to him that if left free the maid would disclose his little project; for he stood thinking a moment, then grasped the frightened maid by the wrist, and ran off into the woods, dragging her after him. All this I saw through an opening in the bushes while I lay helpless and speechless. By industriously working my jaw, I at last succeeded in making my mouth sufficiently free to produce the sounds which brought you to me. Now, monsieur, let us hasten after the maid, for mademoiselle will be vastly annoyed to lose her precious Jeannotte."

I saw that Blaise knew with what argument I was quickest to be moved.

"Blaise," I said, "do not pretend that it is only for mademoiselle's sake that you are concerned. In your anxiety about the maid, you forget the danger in which mademoiselle still lies, and which requires me to remain here. When the ingenious De Berquin learns, from his four henchmen, that mademoiselle was not awakened, he will certainly repeat his attempt. He thinks to win her favor by appearing to be her rescuer from these four pretended assailants, and, at the same time, to make us seem unworthy to protect her. He does not know that she has seen the four rascals in his company. He wishes to work with his own hand his revenge upon us, and so he has let us live. I see the way to make him so ridiculous in the eyes of mademoiselle that he will never dare show his face to her again."

"But the maid!" persisted Blaise.

"They will doubtless secure her somewhere in the woods, and return here to enact, with mademoiselle herself, the sham rescue which they mistakenly carried out with the maid. Go and seek your precious Jeannotte, if you please, but do not let them discover you. Wait until they leave her before you try to release her."

Blaise was quick to avail himself of this conditional commission. He went with me into the kitchen, where the old couple were sleeping as noisily as ever, and found his sword where he had laid it before supper. The door to mademoiselle's room was ajar. Standing at the threshold, I could hear her breathing peacefully, unaware of the peril from which, by a blunder, she had been saved. Through the small window of the room came a bar of moonlight which lighted up her face. It was a face pale, sad, innocent,--the face of a girl transformed, in an instant, to womanhood by a single grief.

Leaving her door as I had found it, I went from the inn to the shed, still wearing my sword, which I had put on in first leaving the kitchen after my futile attempt to sleep. Blaise was already making rapidly for the woods.

I quietly awoke Hugo and Pierre, and bade them put on their weapons and remain ready to respond to my call. I then posted myself again behind the tree stump near the inn door and awaited occurrences.

By this time clouds had arisen, and the moonlight was frequently obscured. I had waited about half an hour, when, again, the sound of breaking leaves and sticks warned me that living beings were approaching through the woods. At last I made out the four figures of De Berquin's hirelings as they cautiously paused at the edge of the open space. Apparently assured by the silence that their presence was unsuspected, they came on to the inn. In a moment of moonlight, I perceived, also, the figure of De Berquin, who stood at the border of the woods watching the proceedings of his varlets. Even as I looked, he withdrew into the shadow. At the same time a heavy mass of cloud cast darkness over the place.

But I could descry the black forms of the four rascals huddled together at the door of the inn, which the foremost cautiously opened. A moment later they had all entered the kitchen.

I glided rapidly through the darkness after them, and took my stand just within the door, where any one attempting to pass out must encounter me. The four rascals were now at the inner door leading to the room of mademoiselle.

"Stand off, rascals!" I cried, assuming the tone of De Berquin. In the same moment, I gently punctured the back of the nearest rascal with my sword.

Surprised at what they took for the premature advent of their master, the fellows turned and stood for a moment undecided. But, by thrusting my sword among them, I enabled them to make up their minds. They could but blindly obey their instructions, and so they came towards me with a feeble pretense of attack. In the darkness it was impossible for them to make out my features. I met their sham assault with much greater vigor than De Berquin had led them to expect from him. This they might have been moved to resist, in earnest, but for the fear of losing their pay, which De Berquin, in order to secure himself against treachery on their part, would certainly have represented as being, not on his person, but somewhere awaiting his call. Thus deterred from making a sufficient defence against my sword-play, and as mademoiselle, awakened by the noise, had hastened to her door and was looking on, the four adventurers soon considered that their pretense of battle had lasted long enough. A howl of pain from Barbemouche, evoked by a wound in the groin, was the signal for their general flight. As I still stood in the doorway to bar all exit there, they sought other ways of egress. The slim Jacques ran past mademoiselle into her room and bolted through the window. Barbemouche managed to go through the rear window of the kitchen, and the fat Antoine tried to follow him, but succeeded only as to his head, arms, and shoulders. Squeezed tightly into the opening, he remained an irresistible temptation to the point of my sword, and at every thrust he beat the air with his legs, and shrieked piteously. The tall François, in attempting to reach this window at one stride, had stumbled against the bodies of the terrified innkeeper and his wife, and he now labored, vainly, to release his leg from the grasp of the old woman, who clung to it with the strength of desperation.

I took mademoiselle by the hand and led her out into the air. Here we were joined by Hugo and Pierre, who had run around from the shed at the noise. I was just about to answer her look of bewilderment and inquiry, when there came a loud cry:

"Stand off, rascals!"

And on rushed De Berquin from the woods, making a great flourish with his sword as he came. In the darkness, seeing mademoiselle standing with three men, one of whom had led her rapidly from the inn, the inventive Vicomte had taken us three for his own zealous henchmen.

And so he came, like some giant-slaying chevalier of the old days, crying again: "Stand off, rascals!" and adding, "You hounds, release this lady!"

"Fear not for the lady; her friends are here!" I said, motioning Hugo and Pierre aside and stepping forward with mademoiselle, my drawn sword in my right hand.

The moon reappeared, and showed De Berquin standing with open mouth, as if turned to stone. In a moment this astonishment passed.

"Thousand devils!" he cried. "The cursed lackey!"

And he made a wrathful thrust at me, but I disarmed him now as neatly as at the inn. Thereupon, he picked up his sword and made rapidly off to the woods. Turning towards the inn, I saw the tall fellow and his fat comrade leaving it, the former bearing his huge sword on his shoulder. They avoided us by a detour, and followed De Berquin. The two who had escaped by windows had, doubtless, already reached the protection of the trees. I began to explain to mademoiselle, and was asking myself how best to account for the absence of Jeannotte, when I saw Blaise coming from the woods, bearing the maid in his arms. To prevent her from returning to the inn, De Berquin had caused Barbemouche to bind her to a tree. When her captors had departed to make a second attempt against mademoiselle, the maid had set up a moaning, and this had guided Blaise to her side.

It was now impossible to conceal any of the night's events from mademoiselle, but she, far from blaming our lack of vigilance, feigned to think herself indebted to us for a second rescue from the attentions of her persecutor. During the rest of that night her slumbers were more faithfully guarded, although they were not threatened again.

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