ery man who insults it by
repeating them."

"I need no champion," said De Roberval testily. "I have done no wrong.
Your friend, whom I trusted, whom I took into my house, whom I saw
nursed back to life in this very room, proved a faithless ingrate, and
betrayed the trust I had placed in him."

"Liar!" came from between Charles' set teeth.

But De Roberval, unheeding the interruption, went on:

"To save my niece's honour I took her with me to the New World, and bade
her lover venture not on board my vessel. But scarcely were we a day at
sea when he stood by her side, having found his way on board among a
gang of criminals. He disgraced the name of De Roberval before the whole
world. I put him in chains for his disobedience; and still he seduced my
niece to his side. Could I, as a just ruler, spare my own? I put her on
an island in the northern seas, with the two jades who had abetted her
crime; and her wretched paramour leaped into the ocean, and doubtless
perished ere he reached the shore."

Charles stood pale and trembling with the effort to restrain himself, as
he listened to this recital, and De Roberval exulted in the thought that
in another moment he would see the man whom he now no longer dreaded
lying dead at his feet. At last La Pommeraye found his tongue.

"Take back that lie!" he thundered, "or, by the holy cross, I will pluck
the tongue that uttered it from your false throat! Claude a deceiver!
Marguerite a----" but he could get no further. He was about to draw his
sword, when he saw De Roberval's weapon flash upwards. The action
recalled him to his senses. He remembered that this was to be the signal
for the assassins. He reached out a sudden hand, seized De Roberval by
the throat, and dashed him headlong against the wall. The shock stunned
him for a moment, and his sword fell ringing on the floor. Charles
picked it up, snapped it across his knee, and flung the pieces at the
nobleman.

"A wretched weapon," said he, "fit for a coward."

De Roberval raised himself, and sat glaring at the wrathful giant.

"You are surprised," said La Pommeraye, "that I have not killed you. It
is not mercy; I but respect the hospitality of your roof. I will let you
live for a time, tortured by your coward's conscience, and then I will
strike you down. Assassin, your plot was discovered. You thought to have
murdered me in your own house--you, who were once noble enough to strike
at your own breast when you thought yours