eant Valmond. She did
not speak, but became very still and pale.

"Better tie him up with a garter, Elise, and get the old uncle back to
Ville Bambord. Trouble's coming. The game'll soon be up."

"What trouble?" she asked.

"Battle, murder, and sudden death," he answered, and passed on with a
sour laugh.

She slowly repeated his words, looked towards the Manor House, with a
strange expression, then went up to her little bedroom and sat on the
edge of the bed for a long time, where she had sat with Valmond. Every
word, every incident, of that night came back to her; and her heart
filled up with worship. It flowed over into her eyes and fell upon
her clasped hands. If trouble did come to him?--He had given her a new
world, he should have her life and all else.

A half-hour later, De la Riviere came rapping at the Cure's door.
The sun was almost gone, the smell of the hay-fields floated over the
village, and all was quiet in the streets. Women gossiped in their
doorways, but there was no stir anywhere. With the young Seigneur was
the member of the Legislature for the county. His mood was different
from that of his previous visit to Pontiac; for he had been told that
whether the cavalier adventurer was or was not a Napoleon, this campaign
was illegal. He had made no move. Being a member of the Legislature,
he naturally shirked responsibility, and he had come to see the young
Seigneur, who was justice of the peace, and practically mayor of the
county. They found the Cure, the avocat, and Medallion, talking together
amiably.

The three were greatly distressed by the representations of the member
and De la Riviere. The Cure turned to Monsieur Garon, the avocat,
inquiringly.

"The law--the law of the case is clear," said the avocat helplessly. "If
the peace is disturbed, if there is conspiracy to injure a country not
at war with our own, if arms are borne with menace, if His Excellency--"

"His Excellency--my faith!--You're an ass, Garon!" cried the young
Seigneur, with an angry sneer.

For once in his life the avocat bridled up. He got to his feet, and
stood silent an instant, raising himself up and down on his tiptoes, his
lips compressed, his small body suddenly contracting to a firmness, and
grown to a height, his eyelids working quickly. To the end of his
life the Cure remembered and talked of the moment when the avocat gave
battle. To him it was superb--he never could have done it himself.

"I repeat, His Exc