lbow.

"Corporal!" said he, swiftly, "secure the sentry at the main gate! You,"
he added, turning to the Pennsylvanian, "lead us to the governor. But
mind, if you betray me, I'll be the first to blow out your brains."

The man seized a lantern and made swiftly over the level ground until
the rubble-work of the old Jesuit house showed in the light, nor Clark
nor any of them stopped to think of the danger our little handful ran
at the mercy of a stranger. The house was silent. We halted, and Clark
threw himself against the rude panels of the door, which gave to inward
blackness. Our men filled the little passage, and suddenly we found
ourselves in a low-ceiled room in front of a great four-poster bed. And
in it, upright, blinking at the light, were two odd Frenchified figures
in tasselled nightcaps. Astonishment and anger and fear struggled in the
faces of Monsieur de Rocheblave and his lady. A regard for truth
compels me to admit that it was madame who first found her voice, and no
uncertain one it was.

First came a shriek that might have roused the garrison.

"Villains! Murderers! Outragers of decency!" she cried with spirit,
pouring a heap of invectives, now in French, now in English, much to the
discomfiture of our backwoodsmen, who peered at her helplessly.

"Nom du diable!" cried the commandant, when his lady's breath was gone,
"what does this mean?"

"It means, sir," answered Clark, promptly, "that you are my prisoner."

"And who are you?" gasped the commandant.

"George Rogers Clark, Colonel in the service of the Commonwealth of
Virginia." He held out his hand restrainingly, for the furious Monsieur
Rocheblave made an attempt to rise. "You will oblige me by remaining in
bed, sir, for a moment."

"Coquins! Canailles! Cochons!" shrieked the lady.

"Madame," said Colonel Clark, politely, "the necessities of war are
often cruel."

He made a bow, and paying no further attention to the torrent of her
reproaches or the threats of the helpless commandant, he calmly searched
the room with the lantern, and finally pulled out from under the bed a
metal despatch box. Then he lighted a candle in a brass candlestick
that stood on the simple walnut dresser, and bowed again to the outraged
couple in the four-poster.

"Now, sir," he said, "you may dress. We will retire."

"Pardieu!" said the commandant in French, "a hundred thousand thanks."

We had scarcely closed the bedroom door when three shots were heard.