’He would not surrender his sword save with his life.  It was not our fault.  We would have saved him if we could.’

Alas for my poor Bart!  I had met him but twice, and yet he was a man very much after my heart.  I have always had a regard for the English for the sake of that one friend.  A braver man and a worse swordsman I have never met.

I did not, as you may think, take these rascals’ word for anything.  Papilette was dispatched with one of them, and returned to say that it was too true.  I had now to think of the living.

‘You will release the thirty-seven dragoons if I free your leader?’

‘We will give you ten of them.’

‘Up with him!’ I cried.

‘Twenty,’ shouted the chasseur.

‘No more words,’ said I.  ‘Pull on the rope!’

‘All of them,’ cried the envoy, as the cord tightened round the
Marshal’s neck.

‘With horses and arms?’

They could see that I was not a man to jest with.

‘All complete,’ said the chasseur, sulkily.

‘And the Countess of La Ronda as well?’ said I.

But here I met with firmer opposition.  No threats of mine could induce them to give up the Countess.  We tightened the cord.  We moved the horse.  We did all but leave the Marshal suspended.  If once I broke his neck the dragoons were dead men.  It was as precious to me as to them.

‘Allow me to remark,’ said the Marshal, blandly, ’that you are exposing me to a risk of a quinsy.  Do you not think, since there is a difference of opinion upon this point, that it would be an excellent idea to consult the lady herself?  We would neither of us, I am sure, wish to override her own inclinations.’

Nothing could be more satisfactory.  You can imagine how quickly I grasped at so simple a solution.  In ten minutes she was before us, a most stately dame, with her grey curls peeping out from under her mantilla.  Her face was as yellow as though it reflected the countless doubloons of her treasury.

‘This gentleman,’ said the Marshal, ’is exceedingly anxious to convey you to a place where you will never see us more.  It is for you to decide whether you would wish to go with him, or whether you prefer to remain with me.’

She was at his horse’s side in an instant.  ‘My own Alexis,’ she cried, ‘nothing can ever part us.’

He looked at me with a sneer upon his handsome face.

‘By the way, you made a small slip of the tongue, my dear Colonel,’ said he.  ’Except by courtesy, no such person exists as the Dowager Countess of La Ronda.  The lady whom I have the honour to present to you is my very dear wife, Mrs Alexis Morgan—­or shall I say Madame la Marechale Millefleurs?’

It was at this moment that I came to the conclusion that I was dealing with the cleverest, and also the most unscrupulous, man whom I had ever met.  As I looked upon this unfortunate old woman my soul was filled with wonder and disgust.  As for her, her eyes were raised to his face with such a look as a young recruit might give to the Emperor.