his life solely
to visit his dying mother. "He is a spy," they would declare hotly; "let
him die a spy's death!"

"It is not my fault," I said to myself angrily; "he has lost; he must
pay forfeit!"

"A dying woman blesses you, and surely the saints will reward you!" The
room was filled with the words; they buzzed in my ears, and beat into my
brain continually; I could not rid myself of them. "A dying woman!" Ay,
perhaps a dead woman by now, and her son following swiftly as the night
the day! I could have cried aloud in my agony of mind.

CHAPTER VII

A Commission for the Admiral

"It is over, monsieur."

Renaud L'Estang stood before me, his face drawn and haggard, and heavy
with a great grief. He had stolen in noiselessly; his sword and pistol
lay within reach of his hand; he might have killed me without effort,
and saved his own life. The thought flashed into my mind, but died away
instantly. From the moment when he told his story I had never once
mistrusted him.

"Your mother has passed away?" I questioned in a tone of sympathy.

"She died in my arms; her last moments were full of peace. Now, I am at
your service."

"You are faint," I said. "Will it not be advisable to break your fast
before starting out? You will need all your strength."

"I cannot eat."

"Yet it is necessary. Pardon me if I summon your servant."

He allowed himself to be treated almost as a child, eating and drinking
mechanically what was set before him, hardly conscious of my presence,
unable to detach his thoughts from the sombre picture in the adjoining
apartment. At last he had finished, and I said gently, "Have you made
arrangements for your mother's burial?"

"They are all made," he replied gravely.

"There is your sword," I remarked, pointing to the weapon lying on the
table.

"Let it lie monsieur," he answered with a mournful smile; "a dead man
has no use for a sword."

Now I may have done a very foolish thing, for this L'Estang was a daring
soldier, crafty, able, and resolute. He was an enemy to be feared far
more than many a general in the armies of the League. All this was well
known to me, and yet I could not harden my heart against him. I had
meant to denounce him to the Admiral, but at the last moment my courage
failed. How could I condemn to death this man who had freely risked his
life to comfort his mother's last moments?

"Monsieur," I said awkwardly, "listen to me. When I met you in the city,
I jump