"Very good. You are a brave fellow. No, Excellency, I will not kill you. I am no assassin. I merely wished to give you a simple lesson and teach you not to violate the law of nations. Now, I am going to cut your bonds." "You will not dare do so," the general said bluntly. "Why not?" the Canadian asked. "Because you know very well that once I am free--" "When you are free, Excellency, you will do what you think proper. I care little what, for did I not tell you that I did not cling to life?" The general looked at him. "Carry out your promise," he then said. "Directly, Excellency." With the utmost coolness the Canadian removed the bonds which he had so carefully rolled round the general's body. "Ah!" said the latter, springing up like a tiger, "Now we shall see." "Wait a moment, Excellency," the Canadian said tranquilly, "the door is not yet unbolted." This mad and reckless rashness confounded the general; for the first time in his life, perhaps, this man felt his heart softened by a feeling which had hitherto been strange to him. "Very good," he said, "open it." The adventurer did not let the order be repeated, but drew the bolts with the same tranquil air which he had retained during the whole scene. The general rang. "Have a horse saddled at once," he said to the usher who entered; then he added, turning to Clary, "Begone, without looking behind you. Make haste, before I recall the order I have given; for I shall probably soon repent my clemency." "I think so, Excellency," the Canadian answered with a singular smile. And, after bowing respectfully, he left the room. The general remained pensive for a moment. "What a strange character," he muttered, and he fell back into an easy chair, in order to restore a little regularity in his ideas, which had been upset by these extraordinary events. All at once his eyes turned accidentally to the table. "Oh," he exclaimed, rising furiously, "my papers." But it was in vain that he gave orders to pursue the adventurer. The latter had followed the general's advice exactly, and, burying his spurs in his horse's flanks, had started at a gallop. CHAPTER XXV. THE WOUNDED MAN.