"You have done well," said the young officer quickly, although he was
cold with rage at the ruffian's low insinuation. "I hope to have some
interest with the king later. If you will give me your names I will
see that you are rewarded."

"Never mind our names," growled the leader, still suspicious, evidently.

"Food and drink would reward us better now," shouted a second.

"Aye," yelled one of the others, seconding this happy thought. "We
have eaten nothing since yesterday, and as for drink, it is a week
since my lips have tasted a swallow of wine."

"And what would you give me if I could procure you some of the fine
wine of the country, my friends?" said Marteau quietly, putting great
restraint upon himself to continue trafficking with these scoundrels.

"Give? Anything," answered several in chorus, their red eyes gleaming.

"If you've got it we'll take it for nothing," said the brutal leader
with ferocious cunning.

"Do I look as if I concealed wine and provisions on my person?" asked
the officer boldly, confident now that he had found the way to master
these men.

"No," was the answer. "But where is it?"

"And be quick about it," cried a second threateningly. "Those Russians
may be back at any moment."

"Is this a jest?" asked a third with a menacing gesture.

"It would be ill-done to joke with men as hungry as you are, I take
it," answered Marteau.

"Hurry, then," cried a fourth.

"In good time, my friends. First, a word with you. What are you going
to do with those two prisoners?"

"Knock the men in the head, I told you," answered the leader.

"And the woman?"

"We are trying to settle who should have her--first."

"It's a pity there's only one, still----" began another.

"I'll make a bargain with you, then," interrupted Marteau quickly,
fingering his weapon while he spoke. "Food and drink in plenty for
you, the woman for me."

"And what do you want of the woman?"

"Before I was a soldier I lived in Aumenier, I told you. I served
these people. This woman is an aristocrat. I hate her."

It was an old appeal and an old comment but it served. These were wild
days like those of the revolution, the license and rapine and ravagings
of which some of the older men present could very well recall.

"She treated me like dirt under her feet," went on the officer. "Now I
want to have my turn."

"Marteau!" cried the woman for the first time, recognizing him as he
turned a grim face towar