footsteps, and turning round I
perceived dimly the figure of a man gliding along in the shadow of the
wall. Before I could get my sword free he sprang at me, and, in
endeavouring to avoid the blow, I fell heavily. With a jeering laugh
the assassin flourished his sword, and, as I caught sight of his face,
all hope vanished, for the man was Peleton. Looking down at me, he
gripped his weapon more firmly, and prepared to strike home.

"You are a clever lad," said he tauntingly, "but all the skill in the
world won't save you now. I intend to pay off my old debts."

The fall had half stunned me, but the sound of his voice and the gleam
of steel brought back my senses. I was struggling to regain my feet,
when I heard a hoarse shout, and the next instant Peleton's weapon went
flying into the air. A second man had run up hurriedly, and was
gripping my assailant's arm.

"Fool!" cried he, "can't you wait? Don't you know the Abbe has need of
him? A plague on your stupid temper; it will ruin everything. Put up
your sword, M. de Lalande," for by now I was standing on guard, "our
friend here has made a trifling mistake, that is all."

It was difficult to refrain from laughing at the man's coolness. He
spoke as if a sword thrust was a matter hardly to be considered; but I
thanked him, nevertheless, for having saved my life.

"Not at all, not at all!" he replied. "There is nothing to be thankful
for. I only grudged my friend the pleasure of paying his score before
my own account was settled."

By this time I had recognised Maubranne, who, for some reason best
known to himself, had interfered to prevent my being killed. Now he
rejoined Peleton, who meanwhile had groped about in the darkness and
recovered his sword, and the two worthies departed together, leaving me
in a state of considerable amazement.

CHAPTER XIV.

I Fall into a Trap.

For a short while I remained trying to understand clearly what had
happened, but it was all so strange that I could make nothing of it.
There was, of course, no mystery in Peleton's attempt on my life, but
what was I to think of Maubranne's rescue?

The baron had distinctly stated I had no reason to thank him, I was
only enjoying a respite, and that for the oddest of reasons--the Abbe
had need of me! What could be made of so astounding a remark as that?
De Retz was no friend to me, while almost every act of mine had been
opposed to his interests. Without having the least