“Monsieur!” exclaimed Dubois angrily. “Of what do you accuse me?” “I make no accusation, captain. But I have to search the house.” “Well, send your men to search it,” and Dubois got up and stood by the door, thus barring the way out of the house. If the officer sent the Bourbon men they would find nothing, he knew; if he went himself, he would find more than he would be allowed to take away. The officer hesitated a moment and then decided-- “I’ll search for myself and trust my own eyes this time.” “It’s all one to me,” answered Dubois with a shrug. Three men were called on to accompany the officer, and all four were leaving the room, when Gerard, who had heard what had passed, met him at the door. “Ah!” was the officer’s significant exclamation at sight of him, “as I thought,” and he turned with a smile of triumph to Dubois. But the smile died away instantly. Dubois was standing before the door with his drawn sword in his hand. It was he who smiled now, and a grim, significant, dangerous smile it was. CHAPTER XXVIII A RISING AND ITS SEQUEL The officer stared with growing anger, first at Dubois, then back at Gerard, and lastly at the four of his men who had moved away and left him and the one Castle soldier alone in the middle of the room. “Is this mutiny?” he cried furiously, drawing his sword. “I’ll answer that,” said Dubois. “It would be a mutiny if they were to turn against their own officer. And they will not. This is my doing, and the responsibility is mine. I will not let you take your prisoners away.” “We’ll see to that. Jean, if that man does not stand from the door, you will fire at him.” The musket was levelled. “Now, monsieur, if you please, stand from the door,” he cried sternly. But the musket was not fired. Gerard stepped swiftly behind the man, seized his weapon and dragged it from him. “We can have no firing here,” he said quietly. “You will resist capture at your peril;” and the officer turned on him. “I am quite prepared for that, captain,” interposed Dubois; “but it is you who are in peril, not we. You will give me your sword.” The officer appealed almost fiercely to the four men. “Do you mean to stand by and witness this? You will pay for it if you do with your lives.” “My soldiers are not trained to man-hunting, monsieur,” said Dubois. “Come, we have wasted enough time. Will you surrender to us?” The answer was a swift rush and an attack, which Dubois parried with the coolness of a wary and practised fencer. The four soldiers looked on stolidly, and the one who had been disarmed watched the duel with the staring gaze of bewilderment and alarm. It lasted but a minute or two, when Dubois, forcing the fight with irresistible vigour, drove his antagonist back till, stepping on the fallen musket, he tripped and fell, and his sword went clattering out of his hand over the boards.