“Name of a dog!” yelled a hoarse voice. “Where are those blockheads? Ah, they shall hang for this! Deserters! Traitors!” There was an uneasy movement among the men. I saw that they had reason to know and fear that voice. In another instant a ferocious face appeared in the doorway, its eyes gleaming with rage. “What!” it cried; and I saw a sword gleam in the air and descend with no uncertain force on heads and shoulders. “Dallying here with a light-o’-love! Is it thus you do your duty? Is it thus you serve the Nation? Hounds! Curs! I’ll show you!” and he drove them forth pell-mell into the road. “And who are you, citizen?” he demanded, wheeling upon me when the last of them had disappeared. “I am on my way to join the army at Thouars,” I said. “And she?” and he jerked his thumb toward my companion. “Spoil of war,” I explained with a wide smile, seeing he was too wise to swallow the other story. He turned and stared at her for a moment. “My word, you have a pretty taste, citizen,” he said; and his eye gleamed lasciviously. “I think I will release you, my dear, from this dirty brute,” he added to her with a leer he no doubt thought engaging. “You’d rather have a brave fellow like myself, wouldn’t you? Say, wouldn’t you?” and he approached and tweaked her ear. “Of course you would! So it is settled.” “Citizen,” I interposed, “I shall have a word to say to that. She belongs to me.” He turned upon me a disdainful countenance. “Get out, you beast!” he said. “Don’t you see we wish to be relieved of you? You say you are going to Thouars. Well, the door is open. Suppose you start now.” “When I start my prisoner goes with me,” I said. He stared at me for a moment as though scarcely able to believe his ears. “What!” he shouted. “You dispute with me! You--you scum! You insect! You toad! I tell you to get out! I advise you to get out while you are able to use your legs.” “Pah!” I retorted, rage mastering me. “Save your ass’s voice for those cowards out yonder. I’m not afraid of noise!” “Dog!” he yelled, and sprang upon me. But I had my pistol out--it was his life or mine--and fired straight into that savage countenance. I saw the gaping hole the bullet left; I saw the blood spurt from it as he pitched forward at my feet. Then a score of savage hands seized me, and I thought for an instant that I should be torn asunder. But a mounted patrol, summoned by the shot, cantered up, cut their way through the crowd, and jerked me out of its clutches. “What is all this?” demanded their officer. In two words they told him the story, pointing to the body on the floor and to the girl cowering in one corner, her hands before her face. They ended by demanding that I be hanged forthwith. “Oh, he shall hang!” my new captor assured them. “Rest content. But he may be a spy; and first we’ll see what he knows. Tie his hands.” They were secured behind my back in a twinkling.