e but lately went the path towards the Bay."

"How long since?"

"A bare quarter of an hour. He was dressed for the forest and went
alone."

During this while I, Placide de Mouret, stranger and outcast, sat upon
a grassy hillock awaiting Pachaco with his boat. The echoes of my horn
had died away in the night, and soon after I caught the sound of
running feet, and heard a man's voice calling my name as he ran. To my
utter astonishment it was the Chevalier, breathless from his speed.

"Is it you--Captain de Mouret?"

"It is--Chevalier," I replied, uncertain at the first who the man could
be.

Seeing him in such a state of mind I knew the struggle had come. There
be times in every man's life when he recks lightly of consequences, and
this was not my night for caring. I had, in a measure, run away thus
far from him, and he, not content with this, had pursued me past the
limit of forbearance. So anticipating his own action, I began
carefully to take off my own coat, and remembered with pleasure that it
was not a slight rapier which now hung confidently by my side.

"No, Captain, not that. I have sought you this time in peace. See, I
have no weapons."

Suiting the gesture to the speech, he flung wide his arms, and showed
himself unprepared for battle.

"Captain, you and I have fought side by side. You are a man of
courage, and if you have injured me you will render me due account upon
my demand. I do demand this of you now, that you return with me to
Biloxi at once, upon my assurance as a soldier that no harm will there
befall you. This, sir, upon a soldier's honor."

It was a most unexpected outcome to such an interview. I hesitated
warily at his request, and then thinking it could make matters no
worse, inquired:

"How long will you require me, and for what purpose?"

"The time will be most brief, a moment should suffice. The purpose I
can not give, but it will bring you into no danger. I repeat, upon the
word of a man of honor, that you will be permitted to return safely as
you came, and no one will follow."

I must say, in spite of these protests, I did not want to go. But he
pressed his wish so earnestly that I followed the Chevalier down the
winding path back to Biloxi, not without great trepidation, however.
He walked rapidly in front, and not a word was exchanged between us.
We passed the barracks and the Governor's house, where I thought to
stop, but he led me on. Leaving the thicker