thin
blue smoke to curl slowly upward from his lips into the air.

"So it is you, you miserable, drunken reprobate!" he exclaimed, a touch
of temper tingling in a voice I felt must naturally be soft and low.
"Have you dared come back to pester me with your abominable
consolations? Sacre! did I not bid you this afternoon to let me alone?
I care nothing for your tipsy paternosters. Faith, man, it will be
pleasanter to face that firing squad to-morrow than your drunken
prayers to-night. Come, get out of the room before I lay unregenerate
hands upon your shaven poll. I am but giving you fair warning, priest,
for I am quick of blow when my blood is heated, nor care I greatly for
the curses of Mother Church."

I stepped quickly forward, coming as directly before him as the great
sea-chest would permit, fearful lest his loud words might be
distinguishable beyond the closed door. Then, with silent gesture of
warning, I flung aside the heavy cowl which had concealed my features.

"You, I presume, are Charles de Noyan," I said gravely. "I am not
Father Cassati, nor drunken priest of any Order of Holy Church."

The prisoner was thoroughly astounded. This I could perceive by the
sudden gleam leaping into his eyes, but that he retained marvellous
control over every muscle was abundantly proven by the fact that no
change of attitude, or of voice, gave slightest evidence of emotion.

"Well, Mother of God preserve me!" he exclaimed, with a short, reckless
laugh. "'Tis some small comfort to know even that much. Yet may I
politely inquire who the devil you are, to invade thus coolly the
bedchamber of a gentleman, without so much as asking leave, at this
unholy hour of the morning? _Pardieu_, man, are you aware that this is
the last night on earth I have?"

He was staring at me through blue rings of tobacco smoke, very much as
one might observe some peculiar animal seen for the first time.

"Had it been otherwise you might rest assured I should never have
troubled you," I replied, some constraint in my voice, his boyish
bravado of speech rasping harshly upon my nerves. "But time presses,
Chevalier; there remains small space for useless exchange of
compliment, nor does indifference appear becoming to those in such
grave peril as you and I."

"_Sacre_! are you also one of us? Surely, I have no recollection of
your face."

"I am one in so far as I now face the same fate at the hands of the
Spaniards, although, it is tr