About noon he entered my chamber abruptly, and carefully closed and double-locked the door on the inside, placing the key in the pocket of his buff coat. He then threw off his blue velvet cloak and large beaver hat, which was adorned by a long red feather, and surveyed me sternly. His aspect was in some respects handsome, but his form was colossal, and his bearing imperious. His eyes expressed an excitement which he endeavoured to veil under his usual cruel smile; but a black expression and sinister glare hovered in them. His lower jaw was deep and square--a feature generally indicative of brutal strength and strong passions. In his waist-belt were placed a pair of pistols and a poniard without a sheath. He made an ironical bow to me, to which I replied by drawing my figure up to its full height, and loftily giving him a frown of contempt. 'I have had tidings from Zaberne this morning,' said he; 'Mulheim still holds out bravely, though Count Gallas has failed to relieve him; and so this night the Chevalier Hepburn means to attack Phalsbourg.' 'This night! are you sure of that?' 'Sure as that I now address a--dying man.' I smiled scornfully. 'Oh, smile on, monsieur! His troops are now in sight: horse, foot, and artillery coming to the attack.' 'Their arms had been the gleam I saw among the mountains. This night, you say--' 'Nay, this very day--perhaps within an hour, the castle may be taken.' 'And I?' 'Shall be by that time buried deep enough below the pavement of the court, perhaps.' 'What do you mean, villain? They will take the place by storm.' 'Do not flatter yourself; for on reflection, M. Blane, I think they will not. I have made every disposition for a vigorous defence. Let ten thousand come, they are welcome to Phalsbourg.' 'You have some purpose, Count, in visiting me this morning?' 'Of course; I was about to allude to it.' 'And this purpose?' He smiled, and insolently surveyed me from head to foot. 'Count de Bitche, I demand to be liberated, or to be treated with the courtesy usually allotted to a prisoner of war. My parole--' 'Liberated! that you may go back to Paris, and coquette with the King's mistress, to sup in her boudoir, to toy with her full fair arms, her chestnut hair, and adjust the sachet _à la violette_ in her bosom! Bah! Pardieu, my fine fellow, you shall have no such indulgence. So, so, among your papers I have the honour to find a letter from Mademoiselle de Lorraine. 'Insolent!' 'Well, I have something to propose, which, from the tenor of that letter, must, I presume, afford you pleasure. 'Indeed!' said I, reading the wicked sneer of his heart in his eyes; 'how kind of you, M. le Comte!' 'Very!' 'And this proposition--out with it.' 'Is merely that you should answer that letter.' 'You mock me, Count; never, while subject to your surveillance--never, while a prisoner in Phalsbourg.'