the Duke of Monmouth!"

The prince thought the chevalier would understand everything the moment
he spoke, but in the exasperation which Croustillac felt, he only saw in
this statement a new artifice or a new provocation, and he redoubled his
efforts to escape. Though much less strong than the duke, the chevalier
was not without energy; he began to struggle violently, when Angela,
terrified, ran and took up a flask, and, putting on her handkerchief a
drop of the liquid, rubbed the hand of the prince, removing the stain
upon it and showing the white skin.

"Do you understand now, sir, that the three persons are one?" said the
prince, releasing Croustillac and showing him his white hand.

These words were a revelation to Croustillac, and he understood all.

Unfortunately, at the moment when the prince took his hand from the
mouth of the Gascon, the latter had uttered the words, "Help! De
Chemerant!"

The sound of the struggle had already attracted the attention of the
French envoy, and, hearing the cry of Croustillac, he rushed into the
room, sword in hand. It would be impossible to depict the stupefaction,
the fright of the three when De Chemerant appeared. The duke put his
hand upon his sword. Angela fell back into a chair and hid her face in
her hands. Croustillac looked about him with an agonized air, regretting
his imprudence, but too late.

Nevertheless, the adventurer's presence of mind returned to him little
by little; as it needs but a ray of the sun to dispel the thick mist, so
the moment that the good chevalier had the key to the three disguises of
the prince, everything became clear to him. His mind, until then so
sadly agitated, became calm; his unworthy doubt of Blue Beard ceased;
there only remained his regret at having accused her, and the desire to
devote himself to her and the prince.

With wonderful quickness of invention (we are familiar enough with the
Gascon now to say with a marvelous facility for lying) Croustillac
formed his plan of campaign against De Chemerant, who still, sword in
hand, stood on the threshold and said for the second time, "What is it,
your highness? what has happened? I thought I heard a cry and struggle,
and an appeal for aid."

"You were not deceived, sir," said Croustillac gloomily.

Monmouth and his wife experienced a terrible anxiety. They were ignorant
of the Gascon's intentions; knowing Monmouth's secret, he was now
completely master of their fate.

If Angela a