rbed it. I was afraid to move, lest I bring upon me
the crowd outside. Had not one of the men cried "_two_ spies." It did
look as if I too was a confederate of Broussard, and I could not have
explained. The echoes of the chase died away, and all was still. My
mind and ears were very busy then trying to make out what sort of a hole
this was I had so unceremoniously fallen into. And Broussard? Where had
he disappeared? I knew he could not be far, for there had been no
footsteps since the door shut. I took it that he must be in the room,
and that the reasons which enforced quiet upon me were also powerful to
him.

He was worse off though than I, for he had doubtless heard me blunder
into the wall, and thought one of the marshal's men had followed him.
This idea suggested he would probably then lay perfectly still and wait
for the man to recover and go out. Or, the thought made me shiver--he
might steal up and finish me with the dagger. As quietly as I could I
loosened my own knife in its sheath and got it well in hand. In spite of
all the caution I used, the sheath rattled against a buckle. I knew my
position was betrayed. I thought then to reach a corner where I could
the better protect myself against a stealthy attack.

Immediately overhead an almost indistinguishable blur marked a high,
square window, some seven feet from the floor. There was but one. In
all probability the door lay directly opposite. That being true, the
natural inclination of a man flying down the hall in the direction we
came would be to go further to the right. Reasoning in this wise, hoping
to avoid a struggle with Broussard in the dark, I edged my way along the
wall toward the left. Inch by inch I went, holding my sword extended at
arm's length in front of me, and lifting each foot carefully to avoid the
scraping. Every few feet I made a complete sweep in all directions with
my blade, to guard against approach. Proceeding in this way, I felt my
sword's point at length touch something--something soft. Before I had
time to wonder what it was, the sharp hiss of a blade cut close to my
cheek, and struck clanging against the wall. I sprang back beyond reach.

"Broussard," and in the extreme excitement I spoke his name unwittingly,
"Broussard, stand still; I had no thought to attack you. Stay where you
are, and I will seek another place."

There came a voice, "Who are you to call me Broussard?" but I answered
not.

In the ab