With these words he took me by the arm and led me up to the two. In the shorter there was no difficulty in recognising Pantin. What with the mist, the mask on his face, and the roquelaure that enveloped him to the ears, I could make out nothing of the stranger, who did not even answer my salutation except by a slight inclination of his head. I need not say I wasted no time, but laid the matter before them, and wound up with: 'And now, gentlemen, we are three swords; let Pantin hasten and bring half a dozen of the Compte's people, and I guarantee that we not only free Madame, but take the whole brood of vipers.' 'These cards won't win,' said de Belin. 'We must have more witnesses than ourselves, who are known to be enemies of the Marshal. The King plays at More's this evening. He is like to be there now, or else very soon, for he is bound on a frolic to-night. We will go straight there. Villeroi and Sully are both to be in attendance, and also the Marshal.' 'The Marshal will not be there,' I interrupted. 'If SO I wager the King asks for him, and I will take it on my head to explain. In half an hour we could be back with Sully and Villeroi, and then the game is ours. Do you not agree, monseigneur?' and he turned to the stranger. All the answer was another grave inclination of the head. 'Come,' went on de Belin, slipping his arm into mine. 'Put yourself in my hands, d'Auriac, and I pledge you success. My God!' he broke off suddenly, 'to think we should win so completely.' There was so much in what he said that I agreed without demur, and Belin hurried me onwards, the stranger and Pantin following a few steps behind. As we went on Belin whispered: 'Ask no questions, d'Auriac; say nothing until you see Sully, and ten minutes after I promise you twenty swords.' 'If I do not get them in an hour,' I said grimly, 'I will go back myself and try what my own sword can do.' 'And I will go back with you, too--there, is that not enough? Come, man!' and we hurried along through the mist as fast as we could walk, keeping on the left side of the road. As we came up to St. Merri, de Belin stopped and blew sharply on a whistle. There was an answering call, and from under the Flamboyant portico of the church the figure of a man, with a led horse, slipped out into the fog, now yellow with the light of the street lamps. Without a word the stranger mounted, and the two passed us at a trot. 'What the devil does that mean!' I exclaimed. 'Your Monseigneur has left us!' 'To return again,' answered the Compte drily. And then added, 'It will be a gay party at More's to-night, and it is time we were there.'