FROID of old acquaintanceship.

And perhaps that had had been better left out. For it seemed
that this man was without bowels. For a moment, while he stood
looking at me, and before he spoke to me, I gave myself up for
lost. There was a glint of cruel satisfaction in his eyes that
warned me, before he opened his mouth, what he was going to say
to me.

'I could not have made a better catch, M. de Berault,' he said,
smiling villainously, while he gently smoothed the fur of a cat
that had sprung on the table beside him. 'An old offender, and
an excellent example. I doubt it will not stop with you. But
later, we will make you the warrant for flying at higher game.'

'Monseigneur has handled a sword himself,' I blurted out. The
very room seemed to be growing darker, the air colder. I was
never nearer fear in my life.

'Yes?' he said, smiling delicately. 'And so--?'

'Will not be too hard on the failings of a poor gentleman.'

'He shall suffer no more than a rich one,' he replied suavely as
he stroked the cat. 'Enjoy that satisfaction, M. de Berault. Is
that all?'

'Once I was of service to your Eminence,' I said desperately.

'Payment has been made,' he answered, 'more than once. But for