death was no more than a passing swoon. Under ordinary
circumstances he might not have been satisfied to have taken the
fellow's word; he would himself have ascertained the truth of the
statement by a close inspection of the victim. But, as we have
seen, the news came as so desirable a solution to the altercation
that was waxing 'twixt himself and Des Cadoux that he was more
than glad to avail himself of it.

The discovery that Caron lived was made while they were cutting him
down from his pillory, and just as the Marquis was turning to go
within. A flutter of the eyelids and a gasp for breath announced
the fact, and the executioner was on the point of crying out his
discovery when Mademoiselle's eyes flashed him a glance of warning,
and her voice whispered feverishly:

"Hush! There are ten louis for each of you if you but keep silent
and carry him to Master Duhamel as I told you."

The secretary opened his eyes but saw nothing, and a low moan
escaped him. She shot a fearful glance at the retreating figure of
her father, whilst Gilles - the executioner - hissed sharply into
his ear:

"Mille diables! be still, man. You are dead."

Thus did he escape, and thus was he borne - a limp, agonised, and
bleeding mass, to the house of Duhamel. The old schoolmaster
received them with tears in his eyes - nor were they altogether tears
of sorrow, for all that poor Caron's mangled condition grieved him
sorely; they were in a measure tears of thankfulness; for Duhamel had