I was still sitting at the window when the tramp of horses' feet sounded in the distance, and presently D'Artagnan appeared at the end of the street with a body of cavalry. For a minute or two it seemed as if the rioters would oppose his progress, but, having no leader, and perhaps being in no mood for a fight, they began to slink away by ones and twos into the houses. A few lingered half defiantly, but obtaining no support from their fellows, they also disappeared, and not a blow was struck as the soldiers rode through the street. "Bravo!" I exclaimed, "the mischief may be stamped out yet. I wonder if the other quarters are quiet," and, buckling on my sword, I crossed the room just as a man in dishevelled dress rushed panting up the stairs. I gazed at my unexpected visitor in amazement and rubbed my eyes. Were they playing me false? No! It was Pillot sure enough, and he was gasping for breath. Why had he come to me? "Just in time, monsieur," he stammered as he leaned against the wall to recover. "What is it?" I exclaimed. "What do you want? Quick, I am in a hurry." "Wait, monsieur. Listen; you must! I ran all the way to the Rue Crillon, but you were not there." "The Rue Crillon?" I interrupted, thinking of Madame Coutance and Marie. "Is anything the matter there? Are the ladies in danger?" "No, no," he answered impatiently. "No one will harm them. They are as safe as at Aunay. It is of your cousin. He calls for you, monsieur; he is dying--and alone! Come with me, monsieur, quick! I must return at once; he may be dead!" "A truce to this mummery," I said sternly. "What new trick is this? Do you imagine I am to be trapped a second time? My cousin is dead and buried; the Abbe himself told me." Pillot gazed at me in blank despair. His face was white, his lips twitched nervously, his words came with a sob. "It is false, monsieur, false. I deceived the Abbe as I deceived all for my master's sake. I spread about the story of his death; I tricked De Retz because he could not be trusted. To save his own life he would have thrown your cousin to the wolves. It is each for himself, nowadays, monsieur. I wormed out their plots: they could not deceive Pillot. De Retz is a clever schemer, but the biggest rogues make mistakes. He believed my tale, and so did Conde. Only one man besides myself and M. de Lalande knew the truth, and I was obliged to trust him. As to your cousin I have guarded him against all comers; I have nursed him day and night; I have tricked the soldiers, but now the end is come. Prince and priest are welcome to the secret now." "But what do you wish me to do?" I asked suspiciously. "To soothe your cousin's last moments, monsieur; to close his eyes in death. He calls for you always." If Pillot was playing a part, he was indeed a superb actor. Yet still I hesitated, so intense was the distrust with which in these days each regarded his neighbour.