back to Aristide Briot.

"That's all right, petit pere," he called out airily, "it is indeed my
friend, just as I thought. I'm going to stay and have a little chat with
him. Don't wait up for me. When he is tired of my company I'll go back
to the parlour and make myself happy in front of the fire. Good-night!"

As Clyffurde no longer stood in the doorway, St. Genis walked straight
into the room and closed the door behind him, leaving good old Aristide
to draw what conclusions he chose from the eccentric behaviour of his
nocturnal visitors.

With a rapid and wrathful gaze, St. Genis at once took stock of
everything in the room. A sigh of satisfaction rose to his lips. At any
rate the rogue could not deny his guilt. There, hanging on a peg, was
the caped coat which he had worn, and there on the table were two
damning proofs of his villainy--a pair of pistols and a black mask.

The whole situation puzzled him more than he could say. Certainly after
the first shock of surprise he had felt his wrath growing hotter and
hotter every moment, the other man's cool assurance helped further to
irritate his nerves, and to make him lose that self-control which would
have been of priceless value in this unlooked-for situation.

Seeing that Maurice de St. Genis was absolutely speechless with surprise
as well as with anger, there crept into Clyffurde's deep-set grey eyes a
strange look of amusement, as if the humour of his present position was
more obvious than its shame.

"And what," he asked pleasantly, "has procured me the honour at this
late hour of a visit from M. le Marquis de St. Genis?"

His words broke the spell. There was no longer any mystery in the
situation. The condemnatory pieces of evidence were there, Clyffurde's
connection with de Marmont was well known--the plot had become obvious.
Here was an English adventurer--an alien spy--who had obviously been
paid to do this dirty work for the usurper, and--as Maurice now
concluded airily--he must be made to give up the money which he had
stolen before he be handed over to the military authorities at Lyons and
shot as a spy or a thief--Maurice didn't care which: the whole thing was
turning out far simpler and easier than he had dared to hope.

"You know quite well why I am here," he now said, roughly. "Of a truth,
for the moment I was taken by surprise, for I had not thought that a man
who had been honoured by the friendship of M. le Comte de Cambray and of
his family w