is better," said Schmidt. "To-morrow you will forgive and
thank me. Let us look at the rascal."

Together they moved forward, and while De Courval stood by in silence,
Schmidt, kneeling beside Carteaux, turned over his insensible body.

"He is not dead," he said, looking up at Rene.

"I am sorry. Your coming disturbed my aim. I am sorry he is alive."

"And I am not; but not much, _der Teufel!_ The ball has torn his arm,
and is in the shoulder. If he does live, he is for life a maimed man.
This is vengeance worse than death." As he spoke, he ripped open
Carteaux' sleeve. "_Saprement!_ how the beast bleeds! He will fence no
more." The man lay silent and senseless as the German drew from
Carteaux' pocket a handkerchief and tied it around his arm. "There is no
big vessel hurt. _Ach, der Teufel!_ What errand was he about?" A packet
of paper had fallen out with the removal of the handkerchief. "It is
addressed to him. We must know. I shall open it."

"Oh, surely not!" said Rene.

Schmidt laughed. "You would murder a man, but respect his letters."

"Yes, I should."

"My conscience is at ease. This is war." As he spoke, he tore open the
envelop. Then he whistled low. "Here is a devil of a business, Rene!"

"What is it, sir?"

"A despatch from Fauchet to the minister of Foreign Affairs in Paris.
Here is trouble, indeed. You waylay and half-kill the secretary of an
envoy--you, a clerk of the State Department--"

"_Mon Dieu!_ Must he always bring me disaster?" cried Rene. He saw with
utter dismay the far-reaching consequences of his rash act.

"It is to the care of the captain of the _Jean Bart_, New York Harbor.
The Jacobin party will have a fine cry. The State Department will have
sent a man to rob a bearer of despatches. Who will know or believe it
was a private quarrel?"

"How could I know his errand?"

"That will not save you. Your debt is paid with interest, but at bitter
cost. And what now to do?" He stood in the road, silent for a moment,
deep in thought. "If he dies, it must all be told."

"I should tell it myself. I do not care."

"But I very much care. If he lives, he will say you set upon him, an
unarmed man, and stole his despatches."

"Then leave them."

"That were as bad. I saw his treachery; but who will believe me? I must
stay by him, and see what I can do."

Meanwhile the man lay speechless. Rene looked down at him and then at
Schmidt. He, too, was thinking. In a moment he said: "This at l