burst violently open, and the innkeeper, with two other men and a
waiting woman rushed into the room.

"_Grand Dieu!_" the landlord cried, shivering and shaking all over, as
he saw the terrible spectacle which the place afforded--St. Georges
stretched on the floor, the stones covered with blood, the other
wounded man leaning against the wall, the maddened woman with the
sword, which she had dropped at their entrance, lying at her feet, and
the candles out--"_Grand Dieu!_ what has been done in my house?
Murder?"

At first neither De Roquemaure nor the panting creature by his side
could answer; then the former found his tongue, while still the
landlord and the other two men stared at them and the waiting woman
hid her face in her apron, not to see the ghastly form on the floor,
and said: "Not murder, but attempted murder. This man drew on me--with
a lady present--would have assassinated me. You see my wound," and he
held up his pierced arm.

"Attempted murder!" exclaimed one of the men, he looking of a very
superior class to that of the landlord. "A strange attempt; you are
young and strong as he; armed, too, your weapon drawn. Yet it seems it
needed this also to aid you," and he stooped and picked up the woman's
toy dagger. "This demands explanation----"

"And shall be given to those entitled to ask. I am the Marquis de
Roquemaure, set upon and forced to defend myself by this fellow who
entrapped us here.--You," turning to the landlord, "saw how he caused
us to enter this house, though I told you we wanted nothing. He it was
who gave all the orders. For the rest, he was a disgraced and ruined
soldier, a common bravo and bully, who deemed me the cause of his
punishment. I answer nothing further but to the king whom I serve, or
his representative."

"He looks not like a bravo or bully," said the man who had spoken
last, as he knelt down by St. Georges and took his wrist between his
fingers. "He scarce seems that."

"Is he dead?" the woman asked hoarsely now, as she bent down over her
victim.

"Not yet. There is still some pulse."

And even as he spoke, St. Georges opened his eyes, looked up at him,
and muttered once, "Dorine!"

Then the eyes closed again and his head fell back on the other's arm.

THE SECOND PERIOD.

CHAPTER XVIII.

LA GALERE GRANDE REALE.

The July sun blazed down upon the sea which lay beneath it as
unruffled as an artificial lake inland; there was no ripple on the
water as