orance of a Breton--and perhaps laugh at his stupidity!

But I let the ferment work in the dark blood of the Lizard, leaving
him to his own sombre logic, undisturbed.

Presently the Lizard raised his head and fixed his bright, intelligent
eyes on me.

"M'sieu," he said, in a curiously gentle voice, "we men of Paradise
are called out for the army. I must go, or go to jail. How can I
remain here and help you trap these filous?"

"I have telegraphed to General Chanzy," I said, frankly. "If he
accepts--or if General Aurelles de Palladine is favorable--I shall
make you exempt under authority from Tours. I mean to keep you in my
service, anyway," I added.

"You mean that--that I need not go to Lorient--to this war?"

"I hope so, my friend."

He looked at me, astonished. "If you can do that, m'sieu, you can do
anything."

"In the meanwhile," I said, dryly, "I want another look at
Tric-Trac."

"I could show you Tric-Trac in an hour--but to go to him direct would
excite his suspicion. Besides, there are two gendarmes in Paradise to
conduct the conscripts to Lorient; there are also several
gardes-champetre. But I can get you there, in the open moorland, too,
under everybody's noses! Shall I?" he said, with an eager ferocity
that startled me.

"You are not to injure him, no matter what he does or says," I said,
sharply. "I want to watch him, not to frighten him away. I want to
see what he and Buckhurst are doing. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Then strike palms!"

We struck vigorously.

"Now I am ready to start," I said, pleasantly.

"And now I am ready to tell you something," he said, with the fierce
light burning behind his blue eyes. "If you were already in the
police I would not help you--no, not even to trap this filou who has
mocked me! If you again enter the police I will desert you!"

He licked his dry lips.

"Do you know what a blood-feud is?"

"Yes," I said.

"Then understand that a man in a high place has wronged me--and that
he is of the police--the Imperial Military police!"

"Who?"

"You will know when I pass my fagot-knife into his throat," he
snarled--"not before."

The Lizard picked up his fishing-rod, slung a canvas bag over his
stained velveteen jacket, gathered together a few coils of hair-wire,
a pot of twig-lime, and other odds and ends, which he tucked into his
broad-flapped coat-pocket. "Allons," he said, briefly, and we
started.

The canvas bag on his back bulged, perhaps w