he very hour for his
execution. His impatience mastered him. Three times had he turned his
horse's head toward the town, and each time drew nearer and nearer. At
the third time a thought flashed through his brain. Could his mistress
have been taken, and would she pay the penalty for saving him? He was
then in the suburbs. Spurring his horse, he entered the town with face
uncovered, dashed through people who called him by name, astonished to
see him free and on horseback, when they expected to see him bound and
in a tumbrel on his way to be executed. Catching sight of his guardian
angel pushing through the crowd, not to see him executed, but to meet
him, he urged his horse past the executioner, who had just learned of
the disappearance of one of his patients, knocking over two or three
bumpkins with the breast of his Bayard. He bounded toward her, swung her
over the pommel of his saddle, and, with a cry of joy and a wave of his
hat, he disappeared like M. de Conde at the battle of Lens. The people
all applauded, and the women thought the action heroic, and all promptly
fell in love with the hero on the spot."

Roland, observing that Sir John was silent, paused and questioned him
by a look. "Go on," replied the Englishman; "I am listening. And as I am
sure you are telling me all this in order to come to something you wish
to say, I await your point."

"Well," resumed Roland, laughing, "you are right, my dear friend, and,
on my word, you know me as if we had been college chums. Well, what idea
do you suppose has been cavorting through my brain all night? It is that
of getting a glimpse of these gentlemen of Jehu near at hand."

"Ah, yes, I understand. As you failed to get yourself killed by M. de
Barjols, you want to try your chance of being killed by M. Morgan."

"Or any other, my dear Sir John," replied the young officer calmly; "for
I assure you that I have nothing in particular against M. Morgan; quite
the contrary, though my first impulse when he came into the room and
made his little speech--don't you call it a speech--?"

Sir John nodded affirmatively.

"Though my first thought," resumed Roland, "was to spring at his throat
and strangle him with one hand, and to tear off his mask with the
other."

"Now that I know you, my dear Roland, I do indeed wonder how you
refrained from putting such a fine project into execution."

"It was not my fault, I swear! I was just on the point of it when my
companion stopped