“Gratitude, Monsieur, for services rendered, and——” “Nonsense!” I said, laughing, “you know that you care. Why, I have lived in the prison upon the memory of that——” “You are cruel, Monsieur.” “Is it cruel for a man who loves a woman to take the woman, if she loves him, away with him?” I was young and reckless. I didn’t care what happened. I swung my horse in closer to hers and slipped my arm around her. She struggled, but in despite of her struggles I kissed her. Her head sank on my shoulder. “Don’t!” she whispered. “You are so strong. I cannot let you go——” That was a wise pair of horses, for they stopped while I poured out my soul to her there and then. What her answer might have been I know not. Yet I was prepared to take her away by force when we were suddenly alarmed by Éspiau. He had ridden ahead a few paces; now he came back on the run. “Soldiers!” he said hastily. “The King’s guard! We must flee!” “Monsieur,” said the Countess, quickly releasing herself and thrusting a little parcel into my hand, “here is the talisman. Go! unless you wish to disgrace me. Éspiau and I will remain here.” She had right on her side. We must not be found together. To assist in the escape of a prisoner, charged with a capital offense, was a serious matter. I swerved my horse and started away. But I had not gone ten paces before a heavy hand seized my horse’s bridle and a stern voice bade me stand in the King’s name. Lights appeared on the instant and I saw that I was surrounded. I cast one glance backward at the Countess and Éspiau. They, too, had been arrested. It was a trap! The whole party had been caught. Back of the men who had stopped us I noticed a single horseman. “Have you got him?” he said as he drew near. “Yes, Monsieur le Duc.” I recognized his voice. It was Mademoiselle’s grandfather! “Take him to my house,” said the old man shortly. The next moment du Trémigon spurred through the throng. It was he who with the remainder of the King’s guard had apprehended Mademoiselle and Éspiau. He shot one venomous glance at me, in which triumph was mingled with hate, and approached the Duke, whispering a few words. I saw the old man start violently; a look of anger and dismay crossed his face—the Marquis spoke earnestly for a moment or two. The Duke nodded—unwillingly, I thought. The next moment he left us and rode forward with du Trémigon to the side of his granddaughter. I stared after them in despair. “Where am I to be taken?” I asked one of the officers commanding the escort that had seized me. “Back to prison.” “And not to the Duke’s house?” “An oubliette will doubtless be safer and more comfortable quarters for Monsieur,” said the captain politely, giving the order to march. * * * * *