little　grief　was　blent　with　the　terror　on　their　countenances　…　they
  stood　by　and　allowed　Blaise　to　lift　the　half…swooning　girl　to　the
  withers　of　his　horse。　　No　reply　had　they　to　the　coarse　jest　with
  which　he　and　his　fellow…servant　rode　off。　　But　La　Boulaye；　who；　from
  the　point　where　he　and　Duhamel　had　halted；　had　observed　the　whole
  scene　from　its　inception；　turned　now　a　livid　face　upon　his　companion。
  〃Shall　such　things　be？〃　he　cried　passionately。　　〃Merciful　God！　　Are
  we　men；　Duhamel；　and　do　we　permit　such　things　to　take　place？〃
  The　old　pedagogue　shrugged　his　shoulders　in　despair。　　His　face　was
  heavily　scored　by　sorrow。
  〃Helas！〃　he　sighed。　　〃Are　they　not　masters　of　all　that　they　may　take？
  The　Marquis　goes　no　further　than　is　by　ancient　law　allowed　his　class。
  It　is　the　law　needs　altering；　my　friend；　and　then　the　men　will　alter。
  Meanwhile；　behold　them　…　lords　of　life　and　death。〃
  〃Lords　of　hell　are　they！〃　blazed　the　young　revolutionist。　　〃That　is
  where　they　belong；　whence　they　are　come；　and　whither　they　shall
  return。　　Poltroons！〃　he　cried；　shaking　his　fist　at　the　group　of　cowed
  peasants　that　surrounded　the　prostrate　Charlot　〃Sheep！　　Worthless
  clods！　　The　nobles　do　well　to　despise　you；　for；　by　my　faith；　you
  invite　nothing　but　contempt；　you　that　will　suffer　rape　and　murder
  to　be　done　under　your　eyes；　and　never　do　more　than　look　scared
  encouragement　upon　your　ravishers！〃
  〃Blame　not　these　poor　wretches；　Caron；〃　sighed　the　old　man。　　〃They
  dare　not　raise　a　hand。〃
  〃Then；　pardieu！　here；　at　least；　is　one　who　does　dare；〃　he　cried
  furiously；　as　from　the　breast　pocket　of　his　coat　he　drew　a　pistol。
  Blaise；　with　the　girl　across　the　withers　of　his　horse；　was
  approaching　them；　followed　by　Jean。
  〃What　would　you　do？〃　cried　the　old　man　fearfully；　setting　a
  restraining　hand　upon　La　Boulaye's　sleeve。　　But　Caron　shook　himself
  free。
  〃This；〃　was　all　he　answered；　and　simultaneously；　he　levelled　his
  pistol　and　fired　at　Blaise。
  Shot　through　the　head；　the　servant　collapsed　forward；　then；　as　the
  horse　reared　and　started　off　at　a　gallop；　he　toppled　sideways　and
  fell。　　The　girl　went　down　with　him　and　lay　in　the　road　whilst　he
  was　dragged　along；　his　head　bumping　horribly　on　the　stones　as　faster
  and　faster　went　the　frightened　horse。
  With　a　shout　that　may　have　been　either　anger　or　dismay　Jean　reined
  in　his　horse；　and　sat　for　a　second　hesitating　whether　to　begin　by
  recovering　the　girl；　or　avenging　his　comrade。　　But　his　doubts　were
  solved　for　him　by　La　Boulaye；　who　took　a　deliberate　aim　at　him。
  〃Begone！〃　cried　the　secretary；　〃unless　you　prefer　to　go　by　the　road
  I've　sent　your　fellow。〃　　And　being　a　discreet　youth；　Jean　made　off
  in　silence　by　the　street　down　which　poor　Blaise　had　been　dragged。
  〃Carom〃　cried　Duhamel；　in　a　frenzy　of　apprehension。　　〃I　tremble　for
  you；　my　son。　　Fly　from　Bellecour　at　once　…　now；　this　very　instant。
  Go　to　my　friends　at　Amiens；　they　will　…　〃
  But　Caron　had　already　left　his　side　to　repair　to　the　spot　where
  Marie　was　lying。　　The　peasantry　followed　him；　though　leisurely；　in
  their　timid　hesitation。　　They　were　asking　themselves　whether；　even
  so　remotely　as　by　tending　the　girl；　they　dared　participate　in　the
  violence　La　Boulaye　had　committed。　　That　a　swift　vengeance　would　be
  the　Seigneur's　answer　they　were　well　assured；　and　a　great　fear
  possessed　them　that　in　that　vengeance　those　of　the　Chateau　might
  lack　discrimination。　　Charlot　was　amongst　them；　and　on　his　feet；　but
  still　too　dazed　to　have　a　clear　knowledge　of　the　circumstances。
  Presently；　however；　his　faculties　awakening　and　taking　in　the
  situation；　he　staggered　forward；　and　came　lurching　towards　La
  Boulaye；　who　was　assisting　the　frightened　Marie　to　rise。　　With　a
  great　sob　the　girl　flung　herself　into　her　husband's　arms。
  〃Charlot；　mon　Charlot！〃　she　cried；　and　added　a　moment　later：　〃It　was
  he　…　this　brave　gentleman　…　who　rescued　me。〃
  〃Monsieur；〃　said　Charlot；　〃I　shall　remember　it　to　my　dying　day。〃
  He　would　have　said　more；　but　the　peasants；　stirred　by　fear；　now
  roused　themselves　and　plucked　at　his　coat。
  〃Get　you　gone；　Charlot；　Get　you　gone　quickly；〃　they　advised　him。
  〃And　if　you　are　wise　you　will　leave　Bellecour　without　delay。　　It　is
  not　safe　for　you　here。〃
  〃It　is　not　safe　for　any　of　us；〃　exclaimed　one。　　〃I　have　no　mind　to
  be　caught　when　the　Seigneur　returns。　　There　will　be　a　vengeance。　　Ah
  Dieu！　what　a　vengeance！〃
  The　warning　acted　magically。　　There　were　hurried　leave…takings；　and
  then；　like　a　parcel　of　scuttling　rabbits；　they　made　for　their　burrows
  to　hide　from　the　huntsman　that　would　not　be　long　in　coming。　　And　ere
  the　last　of　them　was　out　of　sight　there　arose　a　stamping　of　hoofs
  and　a　chorus　of　angry　voices。　　Down　tine　street　thundered　the
  Marquis's　cavalcade；　brought　back　by　the　servant　who　had　escaped　and
  who　had　ridden　after　them。　　Some　anger　there　was　…　particularly　in
  the　heart　of　the　Lord　of　Bellecour　…　but　greater　than　their　anger
  was　their　excitement　at　the　prospect　of　a　man…hunt；　with　which　the
  chase　on　which　they　had　been　originally　bent　made　but　a　poor
  comparison。
  〃There　he　is；　Monseigneur〃　cried　Jean；　as　he　pointed　to　La　Boulaye。
  〃And　yonder　are　the　girl　and　her　husband。〃
  〃Ah！　　The　secretary　again；　eh？〃　laughed　the　nobleman；　grimly；　as　he
  came　nearer。　　〃Ma　foi；　life　must　have　grown　wearisome　to　him。　　Secure
  the　woman；　Jean。〃
  Caron　stood　before　him；　pale　in　his　impotent　rage；　which　was　directed
  as　much　against　the　peasants　who　had　fled　as　against　the　nobles　who
  approached。　　Had　these　clods　but　stood　there；　and　defended　themselves
  and　their　manhood　with　sticks　and　stones　and　such　weapons　as　came　to
  their　hands；　they　might　have　taken　pride　in　being　trampled　beneath
  the　hoofs　of　the　Seigneurie。　　Thus；　at　least；　might　they　have　proved
  themselves　men。　　But　to　fly　thus　…　some　fifty　of　them　from　the
  approach　of　less　than　a　score　…　was　to　confess　unworthiness　of　a
  better　fate　than　that　of　which　their　seigneurs　rendered　themselves
  the　instruments。
  Himself　he　could　do　no　more　than　the　single　shot　in　his　pistol　would
  allow。　　That　much；　however；　he　would　do；　and　like　him　whose　resources
  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
  conscience　not　altogether　easy。　　To　have　stood　by　whilst　her　father
  had　struck　Caron；　and　moreover；　to　have　done　so　without　any　sense　of
  horror；　or　even　of　regret；　was　a　matter　in　which　she　asked　herself
  whether　she　had　done　well。　　Certainly　La　Boulaye　had　presumed
  unpardonably　in　speaking　to　her　as　he　had　spoken；　and　for　his
  presumption　it　was　fitting　that　he　should　be　punished。　　Had　she
  interfered　she　must　have　seemed　to　sympathise；　and　thus　the　lesson
  might　have　suffered　in　salutariness。　　And　yet　Caron　La　Boulaye　was
  a　man　of　most　excellent　exterior；　and；　when　passion　had　roused　him
  out　of　his　restraint　and　awkwardness；　of　most　ardent　and　eloquent
  address。　　The　very　sombreness　that　…　be　it　from　his　mournful　garments
  or　from　a　mind　of　thoughtful　habit　…　seemed　to　envelop　him　was　but
  an　additional　note　of　poetry　in　a　personality　which　struck　her　now
  as　eminently　poetical。　　In　the　seclusion　of　her　own　chamber；　as　she
  recalled　the　burning　words　and　the　fall　of　her　father's　whip　upon
  the　young　man's　pale　face；　she　even　permitted　herself　to　sigh。　　Had
  he　but　been　of　her　own　station；　he　had　been　such　a　man　as　she　would
  have　taken　pride　in　being　wooed　by。　　As　it　was　…　she　halted　there
  and　laughed　disdainfully；　yet　with　never　so　faint　a　note　of　regret。
  It　was　absurd！　　She　was　Mademoiselle　de　Bellecour；　and　he　her
  father's　secretary；　educated；　if　you　will　…　aye；　and　beyond　his
  station　…　but　a　vassal　withal；　and　very　humbly　born。　　Yes；　it　was
  absurd；　she　told　herself　again：　the　eagle　may　not　mate　with　the
  sparrow。
  And　when　presently　she　had　come　from　her　chamber；　she　had　been
  greeted　with　the　story　of　a　rebellion　in　the　village；　and　an
  attempted　assassination　of　her　father。　　The　ringleader；　she　was
  told；　had　been