“As you will,” he said, and gathered up the reins. “Whither are you bound?” he added, turning back to me. “To Poitiers,” I answered. “Then we may indeed meet again;” and waving his hand to his enemies, who by this time were very near, he set spur to flank and galloped away down the road. A shower of bullets followed him, but he kept on apparently unhurt, and in a moment more was out of gunshot. Dubosq came panting up, his men at his heels. He was fairly livid. He stopped for an instant to shake his fist at the cloud of dust far down the road. Then he turned to me. “Traitor!” he cried, hoarsely. “Aristocrat!” And I saw how the great veins stood out across his forehead. “So you had the effrontery to wait for me!” “Assuredly,” I replied, as calmly as I could, “since you requested it.” He glared at me for a moment with bloodshot eyes. Then he turned to his men. “Secure him!” he said. “We will let him espouse Madame Guillotine.” And before I could open my lips to protest, my hands were lashed behind me. CHAPTER II. IN AN ENEMY I FIND A FRIEND. FOR an instant I was too astonished to resist; then the indignity of it--the indignity of the strong and cruel hands which seized and held me--swept over me like flame, and I shook off my assailants and faced Dubosq. “Loose me!” I cried, struggling furiously with my bonds. “Loose me! I demand that you loose me!” Dubosq laughed sardonically. “At your service,” he sneered. “Any other orders?” I realized how impotent I was, and the knowledge struck chill to my heart. Dubosq could stand me up at the side of the road and order me shot, and no one would question or protest. He had only to give the word. I felt as the wild beast feels caught in a sudden trap. “But this is an outrage!” I protested thickly, striving to still the trembling of my lips; for I was young--remember always, my reader, that I was young and new to the world. Dubosq stood regarding me, gnawing his mustache savagely. I dare say the trembling lip did not escape him. “Outrage or not,” he growled, “you are under arrest, citizen.” “And for what?” I demanded. “As an accomplice of the _ci-devant_ Favras.” My astonishment was so overwhelming that even he discerned it. “Of course you are innocent,” he sneered. “Citizen Dubosq,” I said slowly, “I give you my word of honor that I have never before even heard of the person you mention. As for being his accomplice, that is too absurd to discuss.” “It is strange, then,” commented Dubosq, grimly, “that you should have been so complaisant as to permit him to ride away upon your horse. But no doubt you have an explanation. There is always an explanation.” “Oh!” I cried, understanding suddenly and looking down the empty road. “So that was the _ci-devant_ Favras! I am glad to know his name, for I have an account to settle with him. So far from permitting him to take the horse, I had an impulse to murder him.”