ace.

"No," answered Monsieur to Lucas, "I cannot think it." And to Vigo he
said: "I shall accuse you when I accuse myself. But--none knew this
thing save our three selves." And his gaze went back to Lucas.

"It is not likely to be he," I said, impelled to be just to him though I
did not like him, "for they meant to kill him as well."

Lucas started, then instantly recovered himself.

"A comprehensive plot, Monsieur," he said, with a smile.

"Then who was it?" cried Monsieur to me. "You know. Speak."

"There is a spy in the house--an eavesdropper," I said, and then paused.

"Aye?" said Monsieur. "Who?"

Now the answer to this was easy, yet I flinched before it; for I knew
well enough what Monsieur would do. He feared no man, and waited on no
man's advice. And if he was a good lover, he was a good hater. He would
not inform the governor, and await the tardy course of justice, that
would probably accomplish--nothing. Nor would he consider the troubled
times and the danger of his position, and ignore the affair, as many
would have deemed best. He would not stop to think what the Sixteen
might have to say to it. No; he would call out his guards and slay the
plotters in the Rue Coupejarrets like the wolves they were. It was right
he should, but--I owed my life to Yeux-gris.

"His name, man, his name!" Monsieur was crying.

"Monsieur," I returned, flushing hot, "Monsieur--"

"Do you know his name?"

"Yes, Monsieur, I know his name, but--"

Monsieur looked at me in surprise and frowning, impatience. Quickly
Lucas struck in:

"Monsieur, I have grave doubts of the boy's honesty."

"Doubts!" cried Monsieur, with a sudden laugh. "It is not a case for
doubts. The boy states facts."

He seated himself in his chair, his face growing stern again. The little
action seemed to make him no longer merely my questioner, but my judge.

"Now, Felix Broux, let us get to the bottom of this."

"Monsieur," I began, struggling to put the case clearly, "I learned of
the plot by accident. I did not guess for a long time it was you who
were the victim. When I found out that, I came straight here to you.
Monsieur, there are four men in the plot, and one of them has stood my
friend."

"And my assassin!"

"He is a black-hearted villain!" I acknowledged. "For he swore no harm
was meant to you. He swore it was only a private grudge against M.
Lucas. But when one of them let out the truth I came straight to you."

"That is likely