"Nay, my good fellow," rejoined Jasmin, in his blandest way, "surely the word of our good old Achille is enough." Jean glanced hastily at the letter as if to reassure himself, and then a thought seemed suddenly to strike him. "Stay. Mercy on us!" said he, stepping back a little, "is it possible? Yes, I see--of course you are monseigneur the marquis. How could I be so stupid? Ah, monsieur," he added, "I can only be too glad to----" "Hush!" cried Jasmin, interrupting him. "We are watched. Do you not see?" And, sure enough, following the direction of Jasmin's eyes, Jean did see the man who had brought his visitor there emerge noiselessly from a dark corner near the open door and steal away into the street. "Quick," said Jasmin, "go to her at once. Tell her all is well, but that she must come instantly to the Hotel Turenne." "But she will never come without him," cried Jean, pleadingly. "Tell her that you will bring her husband to her the moment he returns; but that if she delays, he will be lost. I will go on first and see that the way is clear." With these words Monsieur Jasmin drew his cloak about him and disappeared. For a few moments poor Jean stood utterly bewildered, but the thought of the danger aroused him, and he hurried up-stairs to the chamber where Marguerite was sitting, anxiously awaiting her husband's return. In a few hasty words, and not a little excited by his mission, the landlord bade her get ready and follow him at once, adding that a good friend had come to aid them, and that she and her husband would soon be safe. At first she hesitated, but on his urgent assurance that she had nothing to fear, she forthwith put on her hood and accompanied him down the stairs, and they quitted the house. They had proceeded about a hundred yards, and had just reached a part of the quay where some stone steps led down to a landing-place, when Jean heard footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned round, and was instantly seized and thrown to the ground, his assailant whispering to him as he held him down with a grasp like that of a vice, "Keep quiet, good Master Jean. This business does not concern you, and you shall be set free in a minute or two." Jean Perigord had too brave a heart for that, however, and he struggled to get loose. He succeeded in raising himself a little, but it was only to hear a shriek, and to see the unhappy girl borne past him by two men, who carried her down the steps and placed her in a boat that lay at the landing-place. The next moment he saw two other men carrying past him what seemed to be the figure of a man struggling in the folds of a cloak that had apparently been thrown over him. The muffled form was thrown into the same boat, which was then instantly shoved off.