"I see," said Maximilian. "And so Our Empire of romance is to hold a baton for another of the family of Ney. But to start more modestly, how would a lieutenancy suit, do you think?" "Your pardon, sire, but I report to His Excellency, Marshal Bazaine." Maximilian's white brow clouded. The French occupation was ever a thorn in his side. He could never quite be Emperor in fact. He could not even promote a likely young man. He had to "recommend" to one Bazaine, who had carried a knapsack. "Quite so," he answered coldly. "I shall inform Our dear Marshal how well you deserve." "The fact is, Your Majesty," said Ney in some confusion, "I did not--exactly--capture him. It was, uh, sort of mutual." Everybody stared curiously. There was the rope, the unloaded pistols. It was a queer puzzle. How did it happen? Ney began with an apology. Would Mademoiselle d'Aumerle forgive him? But he had worried though! He should not have left her, day before yesterday! "Because of a greater attraction?" the young woman suggested. Ney demurred so earnestly that Jacqueline laughed outright. "Don't make it worse, Michel," said she. "I know how you regretted the death of the terrible Rodrigo. Then you learned that he was alive. Oh no, I couldn't have held you.--But go on. Did he prove interesting?" The Frenchman told his story. It appeared that, on deserting mademoiselle two days before, he went at the best speed of his horse up the ravine she had so graciously indicated. He hoped to overtake the fugitive bandit, and after an hour, at a turn in the arroyo, did meet him, face to face. Both were equally astounded. Rodrigo was retracing his steps, having been blocked by a dried waterfall. Either man drew and covered the other. The Mexican did not fire. Seeing Ney, he supposed the Contras at no great distance, and a shot would bring them on his heels. But after a time the thing commenced to grow ridiculous, and Ney laughed. "Monsieur Rodrigue," he said, "I hope you will come along quietly." Fra Diavolo mistook the Gallic humor for an assurance of armed backing near at hand. "Where to?" he asked. "The devil take me if _I_ know! Where would you suggest?" It dawned then on the puzzled brigand that the other knew nothing of the country, and accordingly they struck up an armistice; which, for the rest, the alert revolver of each made imperative. Their protocol's chief clause required the prisoner to conduct his captor to some neutral point. Rodrigo suggested Anastasio Murguia's ranch, and Ney agreed. But as to what might happen on arriving, they left in blank. Michel had a duel in mind, if honest seconds were to be had. The craftier Rodrigo hoped to find some of his own men lurking about the hacienda.