brutal laugh.

"Perhaps I shall be some day; less likely things than that have
happened."

At this he laughed again, and bidding me take myself off his land,
turned back to the arbour.

The next morning, as I stood on the rustic bridge which spans the
stream near Vancey, Henri came to join me. This was an unexpected
honour, but he soon made the reason of it plain.

"Perhaps it is no business of mine," said he, "but I have come with a
warning. You have made an enemy of Maubranne."

"Then we are quits," I laughed, "as I have no love for him."

"He thinks you played the spy upon him!"

"Has he sent you to find out?" I asked hotly.

"No, no; but the truth is, the situation is rather awkward. You may
have heard something which Maubranne would not wish repeated."

"I heard you say that De Retz was going to land a big fish and that he
wanted the baron's assistance. What was meant I do not know, except
that there is some conspiracy afoot."

"I believe you, cousin," said Henri, "but Maubranne won't, and if
anything goes wrong he will not spare you."

"Thanks," said I lightly; "but I can take care of myself. I have not
lived at Court, but my father has taught me the use of the sword."

"Why," cried Henri laughing, "you are a regular fire-eater, but make no
mistake, you will stand no chance with Maubranne. There are twenty
stout fellows yonder ready to do whatever they are told, and to ask no
questions. I bear you no particular love, cousin, but I wish you no
ill, and will give you a piece of advice. Attach yourself to some
nobleman who will look after you; Maubranne will think twice before
harming a follower of Conde or Orleans."

"Or De Retz."

"Ah," said he, "to be quite frank, I don't wish you to join De Retz.
Relatives are best apart. However, I have given you my advice; it is
for you to act on it or not, as you think best."

That night in a long talk with my father I related the whole incident,
and repeated Henri's words.

"Your cousin is right," he said thoughtfully. "Now that you have
stirred up Maubranne's suspicions this is no place for you. The best
thing is to accept Belloc's offer, though 'twill be a dreary life for
you, alone in Paris."

"Belloc will stand by me, and Raoul Beauchamp is somewhere in the
capital. He told me months ago that I can always get news of him at La
Boule d'Or in the Rue de Roi."

"He is a fine fellow," said my father, "and his friendship is worth
cultivating