M. de la Chatre could not have been more surprised if a spirit had risen from the floor at his feet. He stared at me with startled eyes. I had sheathed my sword while behind the curtains, and now I stood motionless, with folded arms, before him. Mademoiselle uttered a slight cry. Montignac, who stood beside her, was as much taken aback as La Chatre was, but was quicker to comprehend the situation. Without moving from his attitude of surprise, he regarded me with intense curiosity and hate. This was his first sight of me, hence his curiosity. He had already inferred that mademoiselle loved me, therefore his hate.

"Who are you?" said La Chatre, at last, in a tone of mingled alarm and resentment, as one might address a supernatural intruder.

"The Sieur de la Tournoire," said I, "standing face to face with you in the chÂteau of Clochonne! You shall give mademoiselle that order for her father's release, or you shall never break your word again."

And I drew my sword, and held it with its point towards his breast.

The fear of death blanched his cheeks and spurred his dull wits.

"Montignac," he cried, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, "if this man makes a move, kill the woman!"

In his situation of peril, his mind had become agile. He had suddenly perceived how things were between mademoiselle and me.

As I have shown, Montignac stood with mademoiselle at some distance from La Chatre and myself. I dared not take my eye from the governor, lest he should step out of reach of my sword; but I could hear Montignac quickly unsheathe his dagger, and mademoiselle give a sharp ejaculation of pain. Then I turned my head for a moment's glance, and saw that he had caught her wrist in a tight grasp, and that he held his dagger ready to plunge it into her breast.

For a short time we stood thus, while I considered what to do next. It was certain that Montignac would obey the governor's order, if only out of hatred for me and in revenge on her for his despised love, though he might fall by my sword a moment later. Therefore, I did not dare go to attack him any more than I dared attack La Chatre. The governor, of course, would not let her be killed unless I made some hostile movement, for if she were dead nothing could save him from me, unless help came. He feared to call for help, I suppose, lest rather than be taken I should risk a rush at Montignac, and have himself for an instant at my mercy, after all.

I cast another glance at Montignac, and measured the distance from me to him, to consider whether I might reach him before he could strike mademoiselle. La Chatre must have divined my thought, for he said:

"Montignac, I will deal with this gentleman. Take mademoiselle into that chamber and close the door." And he pointed to the door immediately behind mademoiselle, the one by which I had first seen her enter.

"But, monsieur—" began Montignac.

"I had not quite finished, Montignac," went on La Chatre. "I have my reason for desiring you and the lady to withdraw. Fear not to leave me with him. Lame as I am, I am no match for him, it is true, but mademoiselle shall continue to be a hostage for his good behavior."

"I understand," said Montignac, "but how shall I know—?"

"Should M. de la Tournoire make one step towards me," said the governor,—here he paused and took up the hunting-horn and looked at it, but presently dropped it and pointed to the bowl of fruit on the table near the fireplace,—"I shall strike this bowl, thus." He struck the bowl with his stick, and it gave forth a loud, metallic ring, like that previously produced by Montignac's dagger from the tray on the other table. "The voice is not always to be relied on," continued the governor. "Sometimes it fails when most needed. But a sound like this," and he struck the bowl again, "can be made instantly and with certainty. Should you hear one stroke on the bowl,—one only, not followed quickly by a second stroke,—let mademoiselle pay for the rashness of her champion!"

"Yes, monsieur," replied Montignac, a kind of diabolical triumph in his voice.

"It may be," said La Chatre, "that no such violent act will be necessary, and that I shall merely require your presence here. In that case, I shall strike twice rapidly, thus. Therefore, when you hear a stroke, wait an instant lest there be a second stroke. But if there be no second, act as I have told you."

"After you, mademoiselle," said Montignac, indicating by a motion his desire that she should precede him backward out of the chamber. He still clutched her arm and held his dagger aloft, intending thus to back out of the room after her.

"I will not go!" she answered, trying to resist the force that he was using on her arm.

This was the first resistance she had offered She had previously stood motionless beneath his lifted dagger, feeling herself unable to break from his grasp of iron, and supposing that any effort to do so would bring down the dagger into her delicate breast. A woman's instinctive horror of such a blow deterred her from the slightest movement that might invite it. She had trusted to me for what action might serve to save us from our enemies. But now her terror of leaving my presence, and her horror of being alone with Montignac, overcame her fear of the dagger. "I will not go!" she repeated.

"Go, mademoiselle," said I, gently, taking her glove from my belt, where I had placed it, and kissing it, to show that I was still her devoted chevalier. "Go! 'Tis the better way." For I welcomed any step that might take Montignac from the chamber, and leave La Chatre's wit unaided to cope with mine.

Her eyes showed submission, and she immediately obeyed the guidance of Montignac's hand. Facing me still, he went out after her, and closed the door.

I was alone with La Chatre.

"My secretary stood a little too near the point of your sword," said the governor, "for the perfect security of my hostage. There was just a possibility of your being too quick for him. I saw that you were contemplating that possibility. As it is now, should I give him the signal,—as I shall if you move either towards me or towards that chamber,—he could easily put mademoiselle out of the way before you could open the door. Not that I desire harm to mademoiselle. Her death would not serve me at all It would, indeed, be something that I should have to deplore. If I should deplore it, how much more would you! And since you surely will not be so ungallant as to cause the death of so charming a lady, I think I have you, let us say, at a slight disadvantage!" And he sat down beside the table near the fireplace.

"I think not so, monsieur," said I, touching lightly with my sword's point the tray on the table near the bed; "for should you strike once on your bowl, I should very quickly strike once on this tray, so that two strokes would be heard, and the obedient Montignac, mindful of his orders, would enter this chamber, not having slain mademoiselle."

I ought not to have disclosed this, my advantage. I ought rather to have summoned Montignac by two strokes on the tray, and been at the door to receive him. But I had not waited to consider. I spoke of the advantage as soon as I noticed it, supposing that La Chatre, on seeing it, would think himself at my mercy and would come to my terms. He was taken back somewhat, it is true, but not much.

"Pah!" he said "After all, I could shout to him."

"It would be your last shouting. Moreover, your shouted orders would be cut off unfinished, and the punctilious Montignac would be left in doubt as to your wishes. Rather than slay mademoiselle on an uncertainty, he would come hither to assure himself,—in which case God pity him!"

"Thank you for your warning, monsieur," said La Chatre, with mock courtesy. "There shall be no shouting."

Whereupon he struck the bowl with his stick. Taken by surprise, I could only strike my tray with my sword, so that two strokes might surely be heard, although at the same time he gave a second stroke, showing that his intention was merely to summon Montignac. In my momentary fear for mademoiselle's life, and with my thoughts instantly concentrated on striking the tray, I did not have the wit to leap to the door and receive Montignac on my sword's point, as I would have done had I myself summoned him, or had I expected La Chatre's signal.

So there I stood, far from the door, when it opened, and the secretary advanced his foot across the threshold. Even then I made a movement as if to rush on him, but he brought forward his left hand and I saw that it still clutched the white wrist of mademoiselle. Only her arm was visible in the doorway. Montignac still held his dagger raised. One step backward and one thrust, and he could lay her dead at his feet. Had I been ready at the door for him, I could have killed him before he could have made these two movements; but from where I stood, I could not have done so. So I listened in some chagrin to the governor's words.

"I change the signal, Montignac. At one stroke, do not harm the lady, but come hither; but should you hear two strokes, or three, or any number more, she is to be sacrificed."

"My dagger is ready, monsieur!"

Again the door closed; again I was alone with La Chatre.

I had lost my former advantage. For now, should I strike my tray once, for the purpose of summoning Montignac, so that I might be at the door to slay him at first sight, the governor could strike his bowl, and Montignac would hear two strokes or more—signal for mademoiselle's death.

"And now, monsieur," said the governor, making himself comfortable in his chair between table and fireplace, "let us talk. You see, if you approach me or that door, or if you start to leave this chamber, I can easily strike the bowl twice before you take three steps."

I could see that he was not as easy in his mind as he pretended to be. It was true that, as matters now were, his life was secure through my regard for mademoiselle's; but were he to attempt leaving the room or calling help, or, indeed, if help were to come uncalled, and I should find my own life or liberty threatened, I might risk anything, even mademoiselle's life, for the sake of revenge on him. He would not dare save himself by letting me go free out of his own chÂteau. To do that would bring down the wrath of the Duke of Guise, would mean ruin. That I knew well. If I should go to leave the chamber, he would give the signal for Montignac to kill mademoiselle. As for me. I did not wish to go without her or until I should have accomplished a certain design I had conceived. Thus I was La Chatre's prisoner, and he was mine. Each could only hope, by thought or talk, to arrive at some means of getting the better of the other.

La Chatre's back was towards the door by which I had entered. By mere chance, it seemed, I turned my head towards that door. At that instant, my man, Frojac, appeared in the doorway. He had approached with the silence of a ghost. He carried the arquebus that had belonged to the guardsman, and his match was burning. Risking all on the possible effect of a sudden surprise on the governor, I cried, sharply:

"Fire on that man, Frojac, if he moves."

La Chatre, completely startled, rose from his chair and turned about, forgetful of the stick and bowl. When his glance reached Frojac, my good man had his arquebus on a line with the governor's head, the match dangerously near the breech.

"I have looked after the guards, monsieur," said Frojac, cheerily, "both of them."

"Stand where you are," said I to him, "and if that gentleman attempts to strike that bowl, see that he does not live to strike it more than once."

"He shall not strike it even once, monsieur!"

"You see, M. de la Chatre," said I, "the contents of an arquebus travel faster than a man can."

"This is unfair!" were the first words of the governor, after his season of dumb astonishment.

"Pardon me," said I. "It is but having you, let us say, at a slight disadvantage; and now I think I may move."

I walked over to the governor's table and took up the bowl. La Chatre watched me in helpless chagrin, informing himself by a side glance that Frojac's weapon still covered him.

"You look somewhat irritated and disgusted, monsieur," said I. "Pray sit down!"

As I held my sword across the table, the point in close proximity to his chest, he obeyed, uttering a heavy sigh at his powerlessness. I then threw the bowl into the bed, taking careful aim so that it might make no sound. At that moment I saw La Chatre look towards the chamber in which were Montignac and mademoiselle, and there came on his face the sign of a half-formed project.

"See also, Frojac," said I, "that he does not open his mouth to shout."

"He shall be as silent as if born dumb, monsieur."

"Oh, he may speak, but not so loud as to be heard in the next chamber.
Look to it, Frojac."

"Very well, monsieur."

For I did not wish, as yet, that Montignac should know what was going on. Through the closed door and the thick tapestried walls, only a loud cry, or some such sound as a stroke on the resonant bowl or tray, could have reached him. We had spoken in careful tones, La Chatre not daring to raise his voice. Thus the closing of the door, intended by the governor to make Montignac safer from a sudden rush on my part, now served my own purpose. It is true that, since Frojac had appeared, and the governor could not make his signal, I might have summoned Montignac by a single stroke, and despatched him in the doorway. But now that my own position was easier, I saw that such a manoeuvre, first contemplated when only a desperate stroke seemed possible, was full of danger to mademoiselle. I might bungle it, whereupon Montignac would certainly attempt one blow against her, though it were his last. I must, therefore, use the governor to release her from her perilous situation; but first I must use him for another purpose, which the presence of the keen-witted Montignac might defeat. Hence, the secretary was not yet to be made aware of the turn things had taken.

There were three quills on the table. I took up one of them and dipped it in the horn of ink.

"Shall I tell you of what you are thinking, monsieur," said I, observing on the governor's face a new expression, that of one who listens and makes some mental calculation.

"Amuse yourself as you please, monsieur," he answered.

"You are thinking, first, that as I am in your chÂteau, and not alone, I have, doubtless, deprived you of all the soldiers left to guard your chÂteau; secondly, that at a certain time, a few hours ago, your troops set out for my residence; that they have probably now learned that I am not there; that they have consequently started to return. You are asking yourself what will happen if I am here when they arrive. Will I kill you before I allow myself to be taken? Probably, you say. Men like me value themselves highly, and sell themselves dearly. You would rather that I leave before they come. Then you can send them on my track. Very well; write, monsieur!" And I handed him the pen.

He looked at me with mingled vindictiveness and wonder, as if it were remarkable that I had uttered the thoughts that any one in his position must have had. Mechanically he took the pen.

"What shall I write?" he muttered.

"Write thus: To M. de Brissard, governor of Fleurier. Release M. de Varion immediately. Let him accompany the man who bears this and who brings a horse for him."

With many baitings, many side glances at Frojac's arquebus and my sword-point, many glum looks and black frowns, he wrote, while I watched from across the table. Then he threw the document towards me.

"Sign and seal," I said, tossing it back to him.

With intended slovenliness he affixed the signature and seal, then threw the pen to the floor. I took the order, scanned it, and handed him another pen.

"Excellent!" said I. "And now again!"

He made a momentary show of haughty, indignant refusal, but a movement of my sword quelled the brief revolt in him.

"The bearer of this," I dictated, "M. de Varion, is to pass free in the province, and to cross the border where he will."

This time he signed and affixed the seal without additional request. He threw the second pen after the first, and looked up at me with a scowl.

"A bold, brave signature, monsieur! There is one pen left!" and I handed him the third quill.

He took it with a look of wrath, after which he gave a sigh of forced patience, and sat ready to write.

"The bearer of this, Ernanton de Launay—"

"Ernanton de Launay?" he repeated, looking up inquiringly.

"Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire,—" I went on.

He stared at me aghast, as if my presumption really passed all bounds, but a glint of light on my sword caught his eye, he carried his eye along to the point, which was under his nose, and he wrote:

"—is to pass free in the province, and from it, with all his company."

"No, no, no! I will never write that!"

Without an instant's hesitation, I drew back my sword as if to add weight to an intended thrust. He gasped, and then finished the pass, signed it, and attached the seal.

"Be assured," I said, as I took up the last order, "these will be used before you shall have time to countermand them." He gritted his teeth at this. "I thank you heartily, monsieur, and shall ask you to do no more writing. But one favor will I claim,—the loan of a few gold pieces for M. de Varion. Come, monsieur, your purse has ever been well fed!"

With a look of inward groaning, he negligently handed me some pieces, not counting them.

"Parbleu!" he said. "You will ask me for my chÂteau next."

"All in good time. It is a good jest, monsieur, that while you visit me at Maury by proxy, I return the visit at Clochonne in person and find your chÂteau unguarded. To complete the jest, I need only take possession. But I am for elsewhere. Frojac, come here."

While Frojac approached, I held my sword ready for any movement on the part of my unhappy adversary, for I saw him cast a furtive look at the tray on the other table, and I read on his face the birth of some new design.

Rapidly I gave Frojac my commands, with the gold and the two orders first written.

"Take this order immediately, with my horse and your own, to the chÂteau of Fleurier. Secure M. de Varion's release, and fly with him at once from the province, leaving by the western border, so that you cannot possibly be forestalled by any troops or counter-orders that this gentleman may send from here. Make your way speedily to Guienne."

"And in Guienne, monsieur?"

"You will doubtless find me at the camp of Henri of Navarre. As soon as you see M. de Varion, assure him of the safety of his daughter. And now to horse!"

"I am already on my way, monsieur!" And the good fellow ran from the chamber and down the stairs. In a few moments I heard the horses clattering out of the courtyard and over the bridge. Pleased at his zeal and swiftness, I stepped to the window to wave him a godspeed. I thus turned my back towards La Chatre.

Frojac saw me and waved in response, as he dashed down the moonlit way towards the road to Fleurier.

I heard a stealthy noise behind me, and, turning, saw what made me fiercely repent my momentary forgetfulness and my reliance on the governor's lameness. The sight revealed plainly enough what new idea had come into La Chatre's mind,—simply that, if he should give the signal for mademoiselle's death, I would probably not stay to attack him, but would instantly rush into the next chamber in the hope of saving her. He could then fasten the door, and so hold me prisoner in that chamber until the return of his troops. Well for us that he had not thought of this before the arrival of Frojac!

He was already near the table on which was the tray, when I turned and saw him. He raised his stick to strike the tray. I rushed after him.

He brought down his stick. The tray sounded, loud and bell-like. He heard me coming, and raised his stick again. The second clang would be the death-knell of my beloved!

But my sword was in time, my arm served. The blade met the descending stick and knocked it from the governor's grasp. The same rush that took me between La Chatre and the table carried me across the chamber to a spot at one side of the door which Montignac at that moment threw open.

"You struck once, did you not, monsieur?" said Montignac, not seeing me, for he naturally looked towards the centre of the chamber.

He held mademoiselle's wrist in his left hand, his dagger in his right. I was at his right side. I was too near him to use my sword with effect, so I contented myself with stepping quickly behind him and bringing my fist down on his left arm above the elbow. This unexpected blow made him involuntarily release mademoiselle's wrist, and informed him of my whereabouts. The impulse of self-preservation caused him to rush forward and turn. I then stepped in front of mademoiselle and faced him. All this, from my turning from the window, was done in a moment.

"And now, M. de la Chatre," said I, "you may strike the bowl as often as you please."

"M. de la Chatre," said Montignac, in a quick, resolute voice, "give me leave to finish this!"

"As you will, Montignac!" replied the governor, moving towards the window. His movement betrayed his thought. If his troops should return in the next few minutes, I would be too busy with Montignac to attack himself. There were two hopes for him. One was that, by some miracle, Montignac might kill or wound me. The other was that the troops might return before I should have finished with Montignac. La Chatre had doubtless inferred that I had brought with me none of my men but Frojac; therefore I alone was to be feared.

Montignac, keeping his eyes fixed on me, transferred his dagger to his left hand, and drew his sword with his right. I, with my sword already in my right hand, drew my dagger with my left.

"Monsieur," said I to Montignac, "I see with pleasure that you are not a coward."

"You shall see what you shall see, monsieur!" he answered, in the voice of a man who fears nothing and never loses his wits.

It was, indeed, a wonder that this man of thought could become so admirable a man of action. There was nothing fragile in this pale student. His eyes took on the hardness of steel. Never did more self-reliant and resolute an antagonist meet me. The hate that was manifest in his countenance did not rob him of self-possession. It only strengthened and steadied him. At first I thought him foolhardy to face so boldly an antagonist who wore a breastplate, but later I found that, beneath his jerkin, he was similarly protected. I suppose that he had intended to accompany the troops to Maury, had so prepared himself for battle, and had not found opportunity, after the change of intention, to divest himself.

Conscious of mademoiselle's presence behind me, I stood for a moment awaiting the secretary's attack. In that moment did I hear, or but seem to hear, the sound of many horses' footfalls on the distant road? I did not wait to assure myself. Knowing that, if the governor's troops had indeed found Maury abandoned, and had returned, quick work was necessary, I attacked at the same instant as my adversary did. As I would no more than disable an antagonist less protected than myself, I made to touch him lightly in his right side; but my point, tearing away a part of his jerkin, gave the sound and feel of metal, and thus I learned that he too wore body armor. I was pleased at this; for now we were less unequal than I had thought, and I might use full force. He had tried to turn with his dagger this my first thrust, but was not quick enough, whereas my own dagger caught neatly the sword-thrust that he made simultaneously with mine.

"Oh, M. de Launay!" cried mademoiselle, behind me, in a voice of terror, at the first swift clash of our weapons.

"Fear not for me, mademoiselle!" I cried, catching Montignac's blade again with my dagger, and giving a thrust which he avoided by leaping backward.

"Good, Montignac!" cried La Chatre, looking on from the window. "He cannot reach you! If you cannot kill him, you may keep him engaged till the troops come back!"

"I shall kill him!" was Montignac's reply, while he faced me with set teeth and relentless eyes.

"Listen, monsieur!" cried mademoiselle. "If you die, I shall die with you!" And she ran from behind me to the centre of the chamber, where I could see her.

"And if I live?" I shouted, narrowly stopping a terrible thrust, and stepping back between the table and the bed.

"If we live, I am yours forever! Ernanton, I love you!"

At last she had confessed it with her lips! For the first time, she had called me by my Christian name! My head swam with joy.

"You kill me with happiness, Julie!" I cried, overturning the table towards Montignac to gain a moment's breath.

"I shall kill you with my sword!" Montignac hurled the words through clenched teeth. "For, by God, you shall have no happiness with her!"

His white face had an expression of demoniac hate, yet his thrusts became the more adroit and swift, his guard the more impenetrable and firm. His body was as sinuous as a wild beast's, his eye as steady. The longer he fought, the more formidable he became as an adversary. He was worth a score of Vicomtes de Berquin.

"Ernanton," cried mademoiselle, "you know all my treachery!"

"I know that you would have saved your father," I answered, leaping backward upon the bed, to avoid the secretary's impetuous rush; "and that I have saved him, and that, God willing, we shall soon meet him in Guienne!"

"If he meets you, it will be in hell!" With this, Montignac jumped upon the bed after me, and there was some close dagger play while I turned to back out between the posts at the foot.

At this moment La Chatre gave a loud, jubilant cry, and mademoiselle, looking out of the window, uttered a scream of consternation.

"The troops at last!" shouted La Chatre. "Hold out but another minute,
Montignac!"

So then I had heard aright. Alas, I thought, that the river road to Maury should be so much shorter than the forest road; alas, that the governor's troops should have had time to return ere Blaise had reached the junction of the roads!

"My God, the soldiers have us in a trap!" cried mademoiselle, while I caught Montignac's dagger-point with a bed-curtain, and stepped backward from the bed to the floor.

"And mademoiselle shall be mine!"

As he uttered these words with a fiendish kind of elation, Montignac leaped from the bed after me, releasing his dagger by pulling the curtain from its fastening, while at the same time his sword-point, directed at my neck, rang on my breast-plate.

"You shall not live to see the end of this, monsieur!" I replied, infuriated at his premature glee.

And, having given ground a little, I made so quick an onslaught that, in saving himself, he fell back against a chair, which overturned and took him to the floor with it.

"Help, monsieur!" he cried to La Chatre, raising his dagger just in time to ward off my sword.

The governor now perceived the sword that stood by the fireplace, took it up, and thrust at me. Mademoiselle, who, in her distress at the sight of the troops, had run to the prie-dieu and fallen on her knees, saw La Chatre's movement, and, rushing forward, caught the sword with both hands as he thrust. I expected to see her fingers torn by the blade, but it happened that the sword was still in its sheath, a fact which in our excitement none of us had observed; so that when La Chatre tried to pull the weapon from her grasp he merely drew it from the sheath, which remained in her hands. By this time I was ready for the governor.

"Come on!" I cried. "It is a better match, two against me!"

And I sent La Chatre's sword flying from his hand, just in time to guard against a dagger stroke from Montignac, who had now risen. Julie snatched up the sword and held the governor at bay with it.

For some moments the distant clatter of galloping horses had been rapidly increasing.

"Quick!" shouted La Chatre through the window to the approaching troops.
"To the rescue!"

And he stood wildly beckoning them on, but keeping his head turned towards Montignac and me, who both fought with the greatest fury. For I saw that I had found at last an antagonist requiring all my strength and skill, one with whom the outcome was not at all certain.

The tumult of hoofs grew louder and nearer.

"Ernanton, fly while we can! The soldiers are coming!"

Mademoiselle threw La Chatre's sword to a far corner, ran to the door leading from the stairway landing, closed it, and pushed home the bolt.

"They are at the gate! They are entering!" cried the governor, joyously.
"Another minute, Montignac!"

There was the rushing clank of hoofs on the drawbridge, then from the courtyard rose a confused turbulence of horses, men, and arms.

Again my weapons clashed with Montignac's. Julie looked swiftly around. Her eye alighted on the dagger that lay on one of the chairs. She drew it from its sheath.

"If we die, it is together!" she cried, holding it aloft.

There came a deadened, thumping sound, growing swiftly to great volume.
It was that of men rushing up the stairs.

"To the rescue!" cried La Chatre. "But one more parry, Montignac!"

There was now a thunder of tramping in the hall outside the door.

"Ay, one more—the last!" It was I who spoke, and the speech was truth. I leaped upon my enemy, between his dagger and his sword, and buried my dagger in his neck. When I drew it out, he whirled around, clutched wildly at the air, caught the curtain at the window, and fell, with the quick, sharp cry:

"God have mercy on me!"

"Amen to that!" said I, wiping the blood from my dagger.

A terrible pounding shook the door, and from without came cries of "Open." Mademoiselle ran to my side, her dagger ready for her breast. I put my left arm around her.

"And now, God have mercy on you!" shouted La Chatre, triumphantly; for the door flew from its place, and armed men surged into the chamber, crowding the open doorway.

"Are we in time, my captain?" roared their leader, looking from the governor to me.

And La Chatre tottered back to the fireplace, dumbfounded, for the leader was Blaise and the men were my own.

Julie gave a glad little cry, and, dropping her dagger, sank to her knees exhausted.

"Good-night, monsieur!" I said to La Chatre. "We thank you for your hospitality!"