“On the contrary, Olivain is to stay and I am to go. I have come for nothing else but to tell you so.” “But what is the meaning of this change?” “I cannot tell you.” “Explain yourself.” “I cannot explain myself.” “Come, tell me, what is the joke?” “Monsieur le vicomte knows that I never joke.” “Yes, but I know also that Monsieur le Comte de la Fère arranged that you were to remain with me and that Olivain should return to Paris. I shall follow the count’s directions.” “Not under present circumstances, monsieur.” “Perhaps you mean to disobey me?” “Yes, monsieur, I must.” “You persist, then?” “Yes, I am going; may you be happy, monsieur,” and Grimaud saluted and turned toward the door to go out. Raoul, angry and at the same time uneasy, ran after him and seized him by the arm. “Grimaud!” he cried; “remain; I wish it.” “Then,” replied Grimaud, “you wish me to allow monsieur le comte to be killed.” He saluted and made a movement to depart. “Grimaud, my friend,” said the viscount, “will you leave me thus, in such anxiety? Speak, speak, in Heaven’s name!” And Raoul fell back trembling upon his chair. “I can tell you but one thing, sir, for the secret you wish to know is not my own. You met a monk, did you not?” “Yes.” The young men looked at each other with an expression of fear. “You conducted him to the wounded man and you had time to observe him, and perhaps you would know him again were you to meet him.” “Yes, yes!” cried both young men. “Very well; if ever you meet him again, wherever it may be, whether on the high road or in the street or in a church, anywhere that he or you may be, put your foot on his neck and crush him without pity, without mercy, as you would crush a viper or a scorpion! destroy him utterly and quit him not until he is dead; the lives of five men are not safe, in my opinion, as long as he is on the earth.” And without adding another word, Grimaud, profiting by the astonishment and terror into which he had thrown his auditors, rushed from the room. Two minutes later the thunder of a horse’s hoofs was heard upon the road; it was Grimaud, on his way to Paris. When once in the saddle Grimaud reflected on two things; first, that at the pace he was going his horse would not carry him ten miles, and secondly, that he had no money. But Grimaud’s ingenuity was more prolific than his speech, and therefore at the first halt he sold his steed and with the money obtained from the purchase took post horses. Chapter XXXIV. On the Eve of Battle. Raoul was aroused from his sombre reflections by his host, who rushed into the apartment crying out, “The Spaniards! the Spaniards!” That cry was of such importance as to overcome all preoccupation. The young men made inquiries and ascertained that the enemy was advancing by way of Houdin and Bethune.