of Monsieur de Condillac bowing low before her.

She stood there a moment between the two ruffians who had been sent to
fetch her, and her eyes travelling round that room discovered Rabecque
in his undignified and half; strangled condition.

"Where... Where is Monsieur de Garnache?" she faltered.

"He is where all those who cross the will of Condillac must sooner or
later find themselves," said Marius airily. "He is... disposed of."

"Do you mean that he is dead?" she cried.

"I think it very probable by now," he smiled. "So you see, mademoiselle,
since the guardian the Queen appointed you has... deserted you, you
would do well to return to my mother's roof. Let me assure you that we
shall very gladly welcome your return. We blame none but Garnache for
your departure, and he has paid for the brutality of his abduction of
you."

She turned in despair from that mocking gentleman, and attempted to make
appeal to the landlord, as though he could help her who could not help
himself.

"Monsieur l'Hote--" she began, but Marius cut in sharply.

"Take her out that way," he said, and pointed back down the passage by
the stairs. "To the coach. Make haste."

She sought to resist them now; but they dragged her back, and there
was a rush of the others following through the doorway, the rear being
brought up by Gaubert.

"Follow presently," was his parting command to the man who still knelt
upon Rabecque, and with that he vanished too.

Their steps died away in the passage; a door banged in the distance.
There followed a silence, disturbed only by the sound of Rabecque's
laboured breathing; then came a stir outside the door of the inn; some
one shouted an order. There was a movement of hoofs, a creak and crunch
of wheels, and presently the rumble of a heavy carriage being driven
rapidly away. But too well did Rabecque surmise what had taken place.

The ruffian released him at last, and, leaping to his feet, was gone
before Rabecque could rise. Once up, however, the lackey darted to the
door. In the distance he saw his late assailant running hard; the
coach had disappeared. He turned, and his smouldering eye fell upon the
landlord.

"O pig!" he apostrophized him, snarling at him to vent some of his
pent-up rage. "O cowardly pig."

"What would you?" expostulated the frightened taverner. "They had cut my
throat if I resisted them."

Rabecque poured abuse upon him, until for very lack of words he was
forced to cease, th