een dispatched to Lens, which was the nearest town, to
bring back a surgeon.

"You will follow us," said Raoul to the servants, "as soon as you have
conveyed this person to his room. A horseman will arrive here in the
course of the afternoon," added he to the innkeeper, "and will
probably enquire if the Viscount de Braguelonne has passed this way.
He is one of my attendants, and his name is Grimaud. You will tell him
that I have passed, and shall sleep at Cambrin."

By this time the litter had reached the door of the inn. The monk got
off his mule, ordered it to be put in the stable without unsaddling,
and entered the house. The two young men rode away, followed by the
benedictions of the wounded man.

The litter was just being carried into the inn, when the hostess
hurried forward to receive her guests. On catching sight of the
sufferer, she seized her husband's arm with an exclamation of terror.

"Well," said the host, "what is the matter?"

"Do you not recognise him?" said the woman, pointing to the wounded
man.

"Recognise him! No--yet--surely I remember the face. Can it be?"----

"The former headsman of Bethune," said his wife, completing the
sentence.

"The headsman of Bethune!" repeated the young monk, recoiling with a
look and gesture of marked repugnance.

The chief of Raoul's attendants perceived the disgust with which the
monk heard the quality of his penitent.

"Sir," he said, "although he may have been an executioner, or even if
he still be so, it is no reason for refusing him the consolations of
religion. Render him the service he claims at your hands, and you will
have the more merit in the sight of God."

The monk made no reply, but entered a room on the ground-floor, in
which the servants were now placing the wounded man upon a bed. As he
did so, every one left the apartment, and the penitent remained alone
with his confessor. The presence of Raoul's and De Guiche's followers
being no longer required, the latter remounted their horses, and set
off at a sharp trot to rejoin their masters, who were already out of
sight.

They had been gone but a few minutes, when a single horseman rode up
to the door of the inn.

"What is your pleasure, sir?" said the host, still pale and aghast at
the discovery his wife had made.

"A feed for my horse, and a bottle of wine for myself," was the reply.
"Have you seen a young gentleman pass by," continued the stranger,
"mounted on a chestnut horse, and fo