of light through which he had passed, and
was passing still--a light strong enough for it to be seen whence he
came, but not strong enough to show his features.

"Halt, or I fire!" The sentinel brought the weapon to his shoulder and
took a calm, close, sure aim. He did not speak; the password he had
forgotten as though he had never heard or never given it.

Another figure than that of the soldier on guard came out of the shadow,
and stood between him and the sentinel. It was that of Chateauroy; he
was mounted on his gray horse and wrapped in his military cloak, about
to go the round of the cavalry camp. Their eyes met in the wavering
light like the glow from a furnace-mouth: in a glance they knew each
other.

"It is one of my men," said the chief carelessly to the sentinel. "Leave
me to deal with him."

The guard saluted, and resumed his beat.

"Why did you refuse the word, sir?"

"I did not hear."

There was no reply.

"Why are you absent from your squadron?"

There was no reply still.

"Have you no tongue, sir? The stick shall soon make you speak! Why are
you here?"

There was again no answer.

Chateauroy's teeth ground out a furious oath; yet a flash of brutal
delight glittered in his eyes. At last he had hounded down this man, so
long out of his reach, into disobedience and contumacy.

"Why are you here, and where have you been?" he demanded once more.

"I will not say."

The answer, given at length, was tranquil, low, slowly and distinctly
uttered, in a deliberate refusal, in a deliberate defiance.

The dark and evil countenance above him grew livid with fury.

"I can have you thrashed like a dog for that answer, and I will. But
first listen here, beau sire! I know as well as though you had confessed
to me. Your silence cannot shelter your great mistress' shame. Ah, ha!
So Mme. la Princesse is so cold to her equals, only to choose her lovers
out of my blackguards, and take her midnight intrigues like a camp
courtesan!"

Cecil's face changed terribly as the vile words were spoken. With
the light and rapid spring of a leopard, he reached the side of his
commander, one hand on the horse's mane, the other on the wrists of his
chief, that it gripped like an iron vise.

"You lie! And you know that you lie. Breathe her name once more, and, by
God, as we are both living men, I will have your life for your outrage!"

And, as he spoke, with his left hand he smote the lips that had
blasphemed again