‘Enough to compel you, Monsieur,’ I replied sternly; ‘but that is not all. There are thirty dragoons coming up the hill to secure you, and they will make you no such offer. Surrender to me before they come, and give me your parole, and I will do all I can for your comfort. Delay, and you must fall into their hands. There can be no escape.’ ‘You will take my word?’ he said slowly. ‘Give it, and you may keep your pistols, M. de Cocheforet.’ ‘Tell me at least that you are not alone.’ ‘I am not alone.’ ‘Then I give it,’ he said with a sigh. ‘And for Heaven’s sake get me something to eat and a bed. I am tired of this pig-sty. MON DIEU! it is a fortnight since I slept between sheets.’ ‘You shall sleep to-night in your own house, if you please,’ I answered hurriedly. ‘But here they come. Be good enough to stay where you are for a moment, and I will meet them.’ I stepped out into the darkness, just as the Lieutenant, after posting his men round the hollow, slid down with a couple of sergeants to make the arrest. The place round the open door was pitch-dark. He had not espied my man, who had lodged himself in the deepest shadow of the hut, and when he saw me come out across the light he took me for Cocheforet. In a twinkling he thrust a pistol into my face, and cried triumphantly,--‘You are my prisoner!’ while one of the sergeants raised a lanthorn and threw its light into my eyes. ‘What folly is this?’ I said savagely. The Lieutenant’s jaw fell, and he stood for a moment paralysed with astonishment. Less than an hour before he had left me at the Chateau. Thence he had come hither with the briefest delay; yet he found me here before him. He swore fearfully, his face black, his moustachios stiff with rage. ‘What is this? What is it?’ he cried. ‘Where is the man?’ ‘What man?’ I said. ‘This Cocheforet!’ he roared, carried away by his passion. ‘Don’t lie to me! He is here, and I will have him!’ ‘You are too late,’ I said, watching him heedfully. ‘M. de Cocheforet is here, but he has already surrendered to me, and is my prisoner.’ ‘Your prisoner?’ ‘Certainly!’ I answered, facing the man with all the harshness I could muster. ‘I have arrested him by virtue of the Cardinal’s commission granted to me. And by virtue of the same I shall keep him.’ ‘You will keep him?’ ‘I shall!’ He stared at me for a moment, utterly aghast; the picture of defeat. Then on a sudden I saw his face lighten with, a new idea. ‘It is a d--d ruse!’ he shouted, brandishing his pistol like a madman. ‘It is a cheat and a fraud! By God! you have no commission! I see through it! I see through it all! You have come here, and you have hocussed us! You are of their side, and this is your last shift to save him!’ ‘What folly is this?’ I said contemptuously.