ound, and as quietly as possible laid
across the moat. This was so skilfully done that it evoked no challenge
and the Captain crossing quickly with a few picked men, stood in the
twinkling of an eye under the shadow of the gateway. Still no sound was
heard save the hurried breathing of those at his elbow, the stealthy
tread of others crossing, the persistent voices of the frogs in the
water beneath. Cautiously he knocked three times and waited. The third
rap had scarcely sounded before the gate rolled silently open, and he
sprang in, followed by his men.

So far so good. A glance at the empty street and the porter's pale face
told him at once that the Vicomte had kept his word. But he was too old
a soldier to take anything for granted, and forming up his men as
quickly as they entered, he allowed no one to advance until all were
inside, and then, his trumpet sounding a wild note of defiance,
two-thirds of his force sprang forward in a compact body while the other
third remained to hold the gate. In a moment the town awoke to find
itself in the hands of the enemy.

As the Vicomte had promised, there was no resistance. In the small keep
a score of men did indeed run to arms, but only to lay their weapons
down without striking a blow when they became aware of the force opposed
to them. Their leader, sullenly acquiescing, gave up his sword and the
keys of the town to the victorious Captain; who, as he sat his horse in
the middle of the marketplace, giving his orders and sending off riders
with the news, already saw himself in fancy Governor of Angouleme and
Knight of the Holy Ghost.

As the red light of the torches fell on steel caps and polished
hauberks, on the serried ranks of pikemen, and the circle of whitefaced
townsfolks, the picturesque old square looked doubly picturesque and he
who sat in the midst, its master, doubly a hero. Every five minutes,
with a clatter of iron on the rough pavement and a shower of sparks, a
horseman sprang away to tell the news at Montauban or Cahors; and every
time that this occurred, the Captain, astride on his charger, felt a new
sense of power and triumph.

Suddenly the low murmur of voices about him was broken by a new sound,
the distant beat of hoofs, not departing but arriving, and coming each
moment nearer. It was but the tramp of a single horse, but there was
something in the sound which made the Captain prick his ears, and
secured for the arriving messenger a speedy passage t