But Gilbert laid a hand on his arm. “Go up and take command of the second floor windows, as we arranged,” he said. “And don’t expose yourself: there’s no need. We shall have to make fresh dispositions if they start firing at the garden front, but I do not, somehow, think they will. I will send for you if it is necessary.” And the duel with an unseen enemy continued. * * * * * * When Louis reappeared, about an hour later, in the Marquise’s bedroom, two of the shutters hung riddled from their hinges, half a dozen of the defenders lay dead or dying on the floor, and the air was full of smoke and the biting smell of gunpowder. Across the dismantled bed, his fingers tearing convulsively at the blue silken coverlet which still adorned it, lay, coughing, a peasant shot through the lungs. M. des Graves was ministering to another on the floor. “What is it?” asked the Marquis quickly, as he caught sight of the begrimed figure in the doorway. “Nothing wrong?” “Nothing,” returned Louis placidly, coming in. “Except that M. des Graves might come up to a couple of my fellows. But I wanted to ask whether you will spare me men for a sortie. I thought I would go out by the garden front, through the pavilion, and take the foe in flank. It would be very neat.” The Marquis shook his head through the noise of the volley which interrupted the speaker. “But, Gilbert,” urged the Vicomte, coming closer and dropping his voice, “have you not thought that if they are not soon dislodged they may bring up artillery? Once or twice I have heard the unmistakable report of a gun from the direction of Chantonnay. Of course it may be Charette, one can’t tell; but if the guns were all lost but two—— Anyhow, as things go now the château is useless for fugitives, and,”—he dropped his voice still further, “the Blues are thinning us down, while we don’t seem to be making much impression on them.” As if to point his words there was a crash behind him, and a Venetian mirror fell in fragments to the floor. A second later a marksman by one of the windows threw out his arms, and twisting rapidly round, staggered half across the room and fell at their feet. While Gilbert and M. des Graves bent over him Louis very coolly went to one of the unshuttered windows and peered out into the dusk. “Come back, you madman!” shouted Gilbert; “I have lost two men at that window already!” “I was only reconnoitring,” urged Louis, as he was dragged away. “But it is too dark to see anything. So much the better. . . . Now will you give me twenty men?” “No.” “You think I should get knocked on the head?” queried the Vicomte, laughing. “You should know my luck better than that, mon ami; I have a charmed life, you know. Besides, better a few out there than all in here. Am I not right, Father?”