is lips were firmly compressed and that there
was an eager light in his eyes. As we emerged, the crowd in our wake
broke the line, and tried to pursue us; either hostilely or through
eagerness to see what it meant. But a dozen blows of the long pikes
drove them back, howling and cursing to their places.

I expected to be taken to Bezers; and what would follow I could not
tell. But he did always it seemed what we least expected, for he only
scowled at us now, a grim mockery on his lip, and cried, "See that they
do not escape again! But do them no harm, sirrah, until I have the
batch of them!"

He turned one way, and I another, my heart swelling with rage. Would he
dare to harm us? Would even the Vidame dare to murder a Caylus' nephew
openly and in cold blood? I did not think so. And yet--and yet--

Croisette interrupted the train of my thoughts. I found that he was
not following me. He had sprung away, and in a dozen strides reached
the Vidame's stirrup, and was clasping his knee when I turned. I could
not hear at the distance at which I stood, what he said, and the
horseman to whom Bezers had committed us spurred between us. But I
heard the Vidame's answer.

"No! no! no!" he cried with a ring of restrained fury in his voice.
"Let my plans alone! What do you know of them? And if you speak to me
again, M. St. Croix--I think that is your name, boy--I will--no, I will
not kill you. That might please you, you are stubborn, I can see. But
I will have you stripped and lashed like the meanest of my scullions!
Now go, and take care!"

Impatience, hate and wild passion flamed in his face for the
moment--transfiguring it. Croisette came back to us slowly,
white-lipped and quiet. "Never mind," I said bitterly. "The third
time may bring luck."

Not that I felt much indignation at the Vidame's insult, or any anger
with the lad for incurring it; as I had felt on that other occasion.
Life and death seemed to be everything on this morning. Words had
ceased to please and annoy, for what are words to the sheep in the
shambles? One man's life and one woman's happiness outside ourselves
we thought only of these now. And some day I reflected Croisette might
remember even with pleasure that he had, as a drowning man clutching at
straws, stooped to a last prayer for them.

We were placed in the middle of a knot of troopers who closed the line
to the right. And presently Marie touched me. He was gazing intently