"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.--pardon me, Don Carlos. Being stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will----" "Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition." "Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation. "I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story. Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in Navarre." "A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.