are reduced, and yet who desires to spend the little that he has to
best advantage, he levelled the weapon boldly at the advancing
Marquis, and pulled the trigger. But Bellecour was an old campaigner,
and by an old campaigner's trick he saved himself at the last moment.
At sight of that levelled barrel he pulled his horse suddenly on to
its haunches, and received the charge in the animal's belly. With
a shriek of pain the horse sought to recover its feet, then tumbled
forward hurling the Marquis from the saddle. La Boulaye had an
inspiration to fling himself upon the old roue and seek with his
hands to kill him before they made an end of himself. But ere he
could move to execute his design a horseman was almost on top of him.
He received a stunning blow on the head. The daylight faded in his
eyes, he felt a sensation of sinking, and a reverberating darkness
engulfed him.




CHAPTER III

THE WORD OF BELLECOUR

When La Boulaye recovered consciousness he was lying on his back in
the middle of the courtyard of the Chateau de Bellecour. From a
great stone balcony above, a little group, of which Mademoiselle de
Bellecour was the centre, observed the scene about the captive, who
was being resuscitated that he might fittingly experience the
Seigneur's vengeance.

She had returned from the morning's affair in the park with a