ad
been left in your hand. I shall have you branded as a thief in the
morning and----"

"My uncle," said the woman, "he----"

"Mademoiselle," interposed Marteau sharply, resolved to protect her at
all hazards, "is not my case black enough without further testimony
from you? I beseech you to be silent."

"Speak, Laure," said the old Marquis. "If you have anything to say
which will make his punishment surer and harder, I charge you to say
it."

"Nothing, nothing," answered the poor young woman. "Oh, if ever a
woman's soul was tortured----"

"You tortured her, did you?" cried the Englishman, struggling in his
father's arms. "I once thought of meeting you in the field--you--you!
I would like to strangle you with my bare hands."

"It is just. I honor monsieur for his rage. It is true, I love the
woman, and----"

"Is this the way a gentleman shows his affection?" roared out the
English captain.

"Monsieur forgets that I am almost, not quite, a gentleman."

"And there is another score we have to settle with you," cried the
Marquis. "That cursed Eagle--where is it?"

"Before I sought mademoiselle," said Marteau, "I placed it in safety
and in such keeping as will watch over it. You will never find it. It
will only be produced when"--he stopped--"when the violets bloom again."

"What is this damned nonsense about flowers I hear everywhere?" burst
out Sir Gervaise.

"Well, monsieur," said the Marquis, "it will be produced before that
time, or when the violets do bloom they will find some red soil out of
which to spring."

"You mean----"

"As I live I will have you court-martialed in the morning and shot for
high treason. I stand for the King, for the ancient laws of France. I
will have no paltering with traitors, and I am more inclined to deal
swiftly and summarily with you since to treason you add theft and this
attempt upon a woman. Produce that Eagle, or you die."

"I must die, then," said the young man.

"By heaven," said Sir Gervaise; looking keenly at the officer, "there
is more in this than I can understand. Give me leave, my lord," he
turned to Marteau. "I have liked you always. I would befriend you
now. I do not believe in appearances always. Can you not explain?"

"Sir," said Marteau, "I am grateful to find one here who still
believes----" He stopped. "The circumstances speak for themselves. I
love mademoiselle. I was mad. I came here, I----"

"Gentlemen," said the Marquis,