"Macabre returned to Thevet this morning," added Proserpine, "where Saccage and I were waiting for him, with our people camped outside the town, where we were careful not to frighten or injure anybody. In that way, thanks to the caution and good discipline of our troopers, we have been able to ride more than a hundred leagues through France without once having to fight. We passed ourselves off as mercenaries sold to the king, and exhibited false commissions. By that means, you see, those of our men who may want to go and seek their fortune in the Huguenot camp or elsewhere will be able to get to Poitou. Macabre expects to give them a free rein, reserving the right to decamp with your booty if he sees that they are getting into any too unsavory business. And so, my dear marquis, we are in a fair way to ruin you, and, unluckily for you, you have thrown yourself into the hands of people who are fully determined to take your life." "That is to say that my fate is in your hands," replied the marquis, "and you tell me so to make sure that I understand how grateful I ought to be to you. Rest assured, Bellinde, that my gratitude will not be confined to words, and that, if you will abandon the plan of leading these men to Briantes, it will be more profitable to you than to share my property with this band of thieves!" "So far as that goes, I have told you, marquis, that I am not the leader; but I can assist you to get rid of the captain and make the lieutenant listen to reason, for he loves money better than fighting." "So you want a ransom for me and the château, do you? In the first place, fix the amount for my person, which is, I confess, defenceless and in your power. As for the château----" "As for the château, you are thinking that, when you are once free, you will defend it! So you won't be free until we have got through with it, unless----" "Unless I pay?" "Unless you sign, monsieur le marquis! for your signature is sacred to anyone who knows, as your faithful Bellinde does, what the honor of a gentleman like you is worth." "What do you want me to sign?" said the marquis, readily resigned to his fate whenever money was in question. Proserpine kept silence for an instant. Her face assumed an expression of diabolical malice, mingled nevertheless with a strange perturbation, as if she were somewhat inclined to blush for her temerity. "Come, come," said the marquis, "speak, and let us have done with it at once, before your companion wakes." "My companion is not my husband, as you must know, monsieur le marquis," replied the amazon in a mincing tone. "He is very ugly and very stupid--and, although you are no younger than he, you still have attractions--to which I have not always been so insensible as I seemed." "What nonsense are you talking, my poor Bellinde? Come, a truce to jesting. Let us have done!"