"Well, Monsieur le Lieutenant"--he took a petty spite in disregarding
my title of Chevalier--"what brings you here away from your post?"

"Only the definite intention, M. le Commissaire, of seeing that
you obey orders. I require stores for my colonel; there is his
order, and if you try any of your devil's tricks with me, sir, I
will make no more of running you through than I would a rat."

He turned as white as a piece of dried plaster.

"Come, sir, none of your shuffling. I want an answer at once."

"You'll get no answer from me, sir, other than I have sent. I have
no stores; the magazines are empty."

"I know you to be a thief, M. le Commissaire, and it is no great
stretch of imagination to believe you a liar. Show me your vaults."

"Very well, very well. We shall see who is right. We shall see
who is a liar," and he started off with alacrity.

"Wait, sir! Where are you going?"

"Only into the next room to get my keys."

"Very well; I'll go with you," and I followed him into the next
room.

Here we found Madame on tiptoe with excitement and curiosity.

"Where are you going? What is the matter?" she asked, quickly.

"None of your business!" roared her husband, with his usual brutality.

"Only into the vault to look for stores." I answered, throwing as
much feeling into the commonplace answer as was possible.

Prevost provided himself with a lanthorn and led the way through
the passage and down the steps leading to the cellars, muttering
and scolding to himself, for he dared not make a complaint to which
I might reply, until we reached the outer door. This he unlocked,
and I discovered a long passage, evidently underground, for the
air struck me as damp and chill as we traversed it, to the entrance
of the principal vault, which he opened.

"There! See for yourself if I have not told the truth. It is as
empty as death!" and as he spake he held the lanthorn high.

Bat this did not satisfy me. I was determined to take nothing for
granted until I had personally proved the truth of his protestations.

"Give me the light," I said, taking it from him as I entered.

"Willingly." he replied; but I had not taken a dozen steps before
I heard a clang, the quick turn of a key, and found I was a prisoner,
trapped like a rat by the man I most hated and despised.

At first I was inclined to laugh, for the turn was not without its
cleverness, but the inclination was quickly stifled as I realized
what such a situat