thing in its hard, clear tones jarred upon me, and I
glanced at mademoiselle, but she kept her face aside. But now we heard
returning footsteps, the grating of a bolt drawn back, the turning of a
key, and then the gate opened; whilst Piero, a huge figure, stood
before us, swinging his lantern, and beside him another man, armed with
an arquebus, the fuse burning like a glow-worm.

"Enter," said Piero; "the signor will receive you."

"_Facilis est descensus Averni_," I murmured to myself, and led the
way, and the gate was shut behind us. Before us lay a short drive
bordered with tall poplars, and on either hand a tangle of a garden
that had run to a wilderness. As we rode up a woman's figure appeared
at an open window, but stepped back at once, and I asked Piero, in his
own Italian:

"Has Monsieur de Richelieu returned?"

The giant answered gruffly: "I know not, signor. He who is within is
the Captain Torquato Trotto."

"Torquato Trotto! I know not the name."

And Piero made no answer, for we had now come to the door of the house.
Here I helped mademoiselle to alight, whilst Pierrebon took charge of
the horses, and mademoiselle and I entered the house. At the same time
a man came running down the stairs to meet us. As his eyes fell on us
a slight exclamation of surprise broke from him; but he checked it on
the instant, and advanced, saying in French:

"You are very welcome, madame and monsieur, I do assure you--very
welcome."

And he bowed before us, courteously enough; but I caught the veiled
mockery in his voice, and as I took the speaker in I thought he was
bravo to his finger-tips.

"Monsieur," I said, "I thank you. We but crave permission to rest a
while, and seek a guide to the ford of the Mable, for we have to be at
Richelieu to-night."

"We will do what we can for you, monsieur. Be pleased to ascend. I
will be with you in a moment. I have but a word to say to my man here.
Excuse me!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE ACTS OF PIERREBON

Leaving us to find our way upstairs Torquato Trotto went out into the
porch where Piero the giant stood, cast a glance at the retreating
figure of Pierrebon, who was leading the horses away, looked over his
shoulder like a cat, and, gripping Piero by the arm, shook with
laughter.

"_Maledetto_!" exclaimed Piero, who was of an evil temper, as he freed
himself from Trotto's clutches, and looked at the swaying figure before
him. "Loose hold, signor! Have you bee