"Because during the execution of that Volontaire de Clermont----" "The poor wretch who appropriated my ring?" "Yes--well, I overheard him swear, a low voice, to Armand de Pricorbin, who accompanied his brother Silvain to the gallows, that you should never reach the allied lines alive, and the man gave him a fierce and rapid glance, as much as to say, we understand each other. I was not supposed to observe, or to overhear all this, and could neither control nor take the Count, my superior officer, to task for it." "But I shall--he is not my superior officer. I thank you, M. Monjoy, and shall challenge him for this," said I, wrathfully. "You would be extremely rash, and if a duel ensued the Duc de Broglie would severely punish the survivor, especially one in your circumstances." "Then what is to be done, for at this moment a plot for my assassination may be forming?" "Return as quickly as possible to the other side of the Lahn," said Boisguiller, who had listened in silence to the foregoing. "I know more of this matter than you, Monjoy, and while disapproving of the sentiments of my kinsman, de Bourgneuf, am most anxious to serve M. Gauntlet, as an old friend who saved and served me when in a desperate and degrading position. _Grands Dieux_! I am not likely to forget that prison-ship, the _Alceste_, for some time to come!" For a minute or more, I remained in doubt what to do. My first idea suggested a report of the affair to the Duc de Broglie; but that would avail me little unless he gave me an armed escort, to apply for which would argue either guilt or timidity. To take the count bluntly and boldly to task would be, my friends averred, perilous work; and to seek an interview with Jacqueline, his countess, and beg _her_ advice in the matter--even if I knew where she resided--was a measure more perilous still, and one to be dreaded. "You really think that Bourgneuf is capable of having me waylaid and cut off?" said I. "Quite," replied Monjoy; "excuse me talking thus of your kinsman, Boisguiller; but his mother was an Espagnole of Alava, and we all know the spirit he is likely to inherit. My advice to you is, monsieur, immediately on receiving the signed passport of the Duc de Broglie, to set out ostensibly for Hesse Cassel--observe this map; it is about seven leagues from here, according to Herman Mall. But go not there; strike off towards Frankenburg, and push on for the Lahn, while Bourgneuf and his people may be searching for you in the direction of the Weser." "And pray start to-night, and _bon voyage_, _mon ami!_" said Boisguiller, draining his glass. "In my ignorance of the country and the language--on foot, too--I shall never reach the Lahn alone."