"It is half-past five o'clock," answered Louis.

He accompanied me all the way to the hotel. He asked for no
explanation, nor did I volunteer any. As we drove into the Place
Vendome, however, he leaned towards me.

"Monsieur is aware," he said, "that he has run a great risk to-night?"

"Very likely," I answered, "but, Louis, there are some things which
one is forced to do, whatever the risk may be. This was one of them."

"You have courage," Louis whispered. "Let me tell you this. There were
men there to-night, men on every side of you, to whom courage is as
the breath of life. They have seen a man whom nobody loved treated as
he probably deserved. Let me tell you that there is no place in the
world where you could have struck so safely as to-night. Remain in
the hotel to-morrow until you hear from some of us. I may not promise
too much, but I think--I believe--that we can save you."

At that moment Louis' words meant little to me. I was still under the
spell of those few wonderful moments, still mad with the joy of having
taken the vengeance for which every nerve in my body had craved. It
was not until afterwards that their practical import came home to me.




CHAPTER VI

AN INFORMAL TRIBUNAL