arche and Bareilles' government the longer you are likely to
live."

I was quite of that opinion myself, having drawn the same inferences
from the words the prisoner had uttered. But for the moment I had no
alternative save to go on, and put a bold face on the matter; and
accordingly I led the way forward at as fast a pace as the darkness and
the jaded state of our horses permitted. Colet presently joined us, and
half an hour later a bunch of lights which appeared on the side of a
hill in front proclaimed that we were nearing Gueret. From this point
half a league across a rushy bottom and through a ford brought us to
the gate, which opened before we summoned it. I had taken care to call
to the van one of my men who knew the town; and he guided us quickly,
no one challenging us, through a number of foul, narrow streets and
under dark archways, among which a stranger must have gone astray. We
reached at last a good-sized square, on one side of which--though the
rest of the town lay buried in darkness--a large building, which I
judged to be Bareilles' residence, exposed a dozen lighted windows to
the street. Two or three figures lounged half-seen on the wide stone
steps which led up to the entrance, and the rattle of dice, with a
murmur of voices, came from the windows. Without a moment's hesitation
I dismounted at the foot of the steps, and, bidding La Font and
Boisrueil attend me, with three of the servants, I directed Colet to
withdraw with the rest and the horses to the farther end of the square.

Dreading nothing so much as that I might lose the advantage of
surprise, I put aside two of the men on the steps who would have
questioned me, and strode boldly across the stone landing at the head
of the flight. Here I found two doors facing me, and foresaw the
possibility of error; but I was relieved from the burden of choosing by
the sudden appearance at one of them of Bareilles himself. The place
was lit only by an oil lamp, and, for a reason best known to himself,
he did not look directly at me, but stood with his head half-turned as
he said, "Well, Martin, is it done?"

I heard the dicers hold their hands to catch the answer, and in the
silence a bottle in some unsteady hand clinked against a glass.
Through the half-open door behind him it was possible to see a long
table, laid and glittering with steel and plate; and all seemed to wait.

Parabere broke the spell. "We are late!" he said in a ringing voice,