that
abominable thief upstairs, before the night was many minutes older--he
ceased to parley with Briot.

A candle stood close to his hand on the table, a bit of kindling wood
lay in a heap in one corner, with the help of the one he lighted the
other, then candle in hand he walked up to the door.

"Show me the way, petit pere," he said.

And Aristide Briot, with a shrug of the shoulders which implied that he
there and then put away from him any responsibility for what might or
might not occur after this, and without further comment, led the way
upstairs.

II

On the upper landing at the top of the stairs Briot paused. He pointed
to a door at the end of the narrow corridor, and said curtly:

"That's his room."

"I thank you, petit pere," whispered St. Genis in response. "Don't wait
for me, I'll be back directly."

"He is not yet in bed," was Briot's dry comment.

A thin streak of light showed underneath the door. As St. Genis walked
rapidly toward it he wondered if the door would be locked. That
certainly was a contingency which had not occurred to him. His design
was to surprise a wounded and helpless thief in his sleep and to force
him then and there to give up the stolen money, before he had time to
call for help.

But the miscreant was evidently on the watch, Briot still lingered on
the top of the stairs, there were other people sleeping in the house,
and St. Genis suddenly realised that his purpose would not be quite so
easy of execution as he had hot-headedly supposed.

But the end in view was great, and St. Genis was not a man easily
deterred from a set purpose. There was the royalist cause to aid and
Crystal to be won if he were successful.

He knocked resolutely at the door, then tried the latch. The door was
locked: but even as the young man hesitated for a moment wondering what
he would do next, a firm step resounded on the floor on the other side
of the partition and the next moment the door was opened from within,
and a peremptory voice issued the usual challenge:

"Who goes there?"

A tall figure appeared as a massive silhouette under the lintel. St.
Genis had the candle in his hand. He dropped it in his astonishment.

"Mr. Clyffurde!" he exclaimed.

At sight of St. Genis the Englishman, whose right arm was in a sling,
had made a quick instinctive movement back into the room, but equally
quickly Maurice had forestalled him by placing his foot across the
threshold.

Then he turned