upon the door.

In his rapid passage through the house the young Frenchman had noticed
that all the windows were shuttered and barred, that only the front
door appeared to have been opened. He was familiar with the chateau.
He knew how carefully its openings had been secured and how often his
father had inspected them, to keep out brigands, the waifs and strays,
the wanderers, the low men of the countryside. For the moment he was
safe with his prisoners, one man and a boy guarding a score of men and
one woman, and holding a chateau against a hundred and fifty soldiers!
Fortunately, there would be no cannon with that troop of cavalry, there
were no cannon in that wagon train, so that they could not batter down
the chateau over his head. What his ultimate fate would be he could
not tell. Could he hold that castle indefinitely? If not, what? How
he was to get away and reach Napoleon with his vital news he could not
see. There must be some way, however. Well, whatever was to be would
be, and meanwhile he could only wait developments and hold on.

The troopers outside were very much astonished to find the heavy door
closed and the two sentries dead on the terrace. They dismounted from
their horses at the foot of the terrace and crowded about the door,
upon which they beat with their pistols, at the same time shouting the
names and titles of the officers within. Inside the great hall Marteau
had once more taken command. In all this excitement Laure d'Aumenier
had stood like a stone, apparently indifferent to the appeals of the
four bound men on the floor and the Englishman in the chair that she
cut the ropes with which they were bound, while the French officer was
busy at the door. Perhaps that young peasant might have prevented her,
but as a matter of fact, she made no attempt to answer their pleas.
She stood waiting and watching. Just as Marteau reentered the room the
chief Russian officer shouted out a command. From where he lay on the
floor his voice did not carry well and there was too much tumult
outside for anyone to hear. In a second Marteau was over him.

"If you open your mouth again, monsieur," he said fiercely, "I shall
have to choose between gagging and killing you, and I incline to the
latter. And these other gentlemen may take notice. You, what are you
named?"

"Pierre Lebois, sir," answered the peasant.

"Can you fire a gun?"

"Give me a chance," answered the young fellow. "I've got peo