"Montignac," he cried, keeping his eyes fixed on mine, "if this man makes a move, kill the woman!"

In his situation of peril, his mind had become agile. He had suddenly perceived how things were between mademoiselle and me.

As I have shown, Montignac stood with mademoiselle at some distance from La Chatre and myself. I dared not take my eye from the governor, lest he should step out of reach of my sword; but I could hear Montignac quickly unsheathe his dagger, and mademoiselle give a sharp e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of pain.

Then I turned my head for a moment's glance, and saw that he had caught her wrist in a tight grasp, and that he held his dagger ready to plunge it into her breast.

For a short time we stood thus, while I considered what to do next. It was certain that Montignac would obey the governor's order, if only out of hatred for me and in revenge on her for his despised love, though he might fall by my sword a moment later. Therefore, I did not dare go to attack him any more than I dared attack La Chatre. The governor, of course, would not let her be killed unless I made some hostile movement, for if she were dead nothing could save him from me, unless help came. He feared to call for help, I suppose, lest rather than be taken I should risk a rush at Montignac, and have himself for an instant at my mercy, after all.

I cast another glance at Montignac, and measured the distance from me to him, to consider whether I might reach him before he could strike mademoiselle. La Chatre must have divined my thought, for he said:

"Montignac, I will deal with this gentleman. Take mademoiselle into that chamber and close the door." And he pointed to the door immediately behind mademoiselle, the one by which I had first seen her enter.

"But, monsieur--" began Montignac.

"I had not quite finished, Montignac," went on La Chatre. "I have my reason for desiring you and the lady to withdraw. Fear not to leave me with him. Lame as I am, I am no match for him, it is true, but mademoiselle shall continue to be a hostage for his good behavior."

"I understand," said Montignac, "but how shall I know--?"

"Should M. de la Tournoire make one step towards me," said the governor,--here he paused and took up the hunting-horn and looked at it, but presently dropped it and pointed to the bowl of fruit on the table near the fireplace,--"I shall strike this bowl, thus." He struck the bowl with his stick, and it gave forth a loud, metallic ring, like that previously produced by Montignac's dagger from the tray on the other table. "The voice is not always to be relied on," continued the governor.

"Sometimes it fails when most needed. But a sound like this," and he struck the bowl again, "can be made instantly and with certainty. Should you hear one stroke on the bowl,--one only, not followed quickly by a second stroke,--let mademoiselle pay for the rashness of her champion!"

"Yes, monsieur," replied Montignac, a kind of diabolical triumph in his voice.

"It may be," said La Chatre, "that no such violent act will be necessary, and that I shall merely require your presence here. In that case, I shall strike twice rapidly, thus. Therefore, when you hear a stroke, wait an instant lest there be a second stroke. But if there be no second, act as I have told you."

"After you, mademoiselle," said Montignac, indicating by a motion his desire that she should precede him backward out of the chamber. He still clutched her arm and held his dagger aloft, intending thus to back out of the room after her.

"I will not go!" she answered, trying to resist the force that he was using on her arm.

This was the first resistance she had offered She had previously stood motionless beneath his lifted dagger, feeling herself unable to break from his grasp of iron, and supposing that any effort to do so would bring down the dagger into her delicate breast. A woman's instinctive horror of such a blow deterred her from the slightest movement that might invite it. She had trusted to me for what action might serve to save us from our enemies. But now her terror of leaving my presence, and her horror of being alone with Montignac, overcame her fear of the dagger. "I will not go!" she repeated.

"Go, mademoiselle," said I, gently, taking her glove from my belt, where I had placed it, and kissing it, to show that I was still her devoted chevalier. "Go! 'Tis the better way." For I welcomed any step that might take Montignac from the chamber, and leave La Chatre's wit unaided to cope with mine.

Her eyes showed submission, and she immediately obeyed the guidance of Montignac's hand. Facing me still, he went out after her, and closed the door.

I was alone with La Chatre.

"My secretary stood a little too near the point of your sword," said the governor, "for the perfect security of my hostage. There was just a possibility of your being too quick for him. I saw that you were contemplating that possibility. As it is now, should I give him the signal,--as I shall if you move either towards me or towards that chamber,--he could easily put mademoiselle out of the way before you could open the door. Not that I desire harm to mademoiselle. Her death would not serve me at all It would, indeed, be something that I should have to deplore. If I should deplore it, how much more would you! And since you surely will not be so ungallant as to cause the death of so charming a lady, I think I have you, let us say, at a slight disadvantage!" And he sat down beside the table near the fireplace.

"I think not so, monsieur," said I, touching lightly with my sword's point the tray on the table near the bed; "for should you strike once on your bowl, I should very quickly strike once on this tray, so that two strokes would be heard, and the obedient Montignac, mindful of his orders, would enter this chamber, _not_ having slain mademoiselle."

I ought not to have disclosed this, my advantage. I ought rather to have summoned Montignac by two strokes on the tray, and been at the door to receive him. But I had not waited to consider. I spoke of the advantage as soon as I noticed it, supposing that La Chatre, on seeing it, would think himself at my mercy and would come to my terms. He was taken back somewhat, it is true, but not much.

"Pah!" he said "After all, I could shout to him."

"It would be your last shouting. Moreover, your shouted orders would be cut off unfinished, and the punctilious Montignac would be left in doubt as to your wishes. Rather than slay mademoiselle on an uncertainty, he would come hither to a.s.sure himself,--in which case G.o.d pity him!"

"Thank you for your warning, monsieur," said La Chatre, with mock courtesy. "There shall be no shouting."

Whereupon he struck the bowl with his stick. Taken by surprise, I could only strike my tray with my sword, so that two strokes might surely be heard, although at the same time he gave a second stroke, showing that his intention was merely to summon Montignac. In my momentary fear for mademoiselle's life, and with my thoughts instantly concentrated on striking the tray, I did not have the wit to leap to the door and receive Montignac on my sword's point, as I would have done had I myself summoned him, or had I expected La Chatre's signal.

So there I stood, far from the door, when it opened, and the secretary advanced his foot across the threshold. Even then I made a movement as if to rush on him, but he brought forward his left hand and I saw that it still clutched the white wrist of mademoiselle. Only her arm was visible in the doorway. Montignac still held his dagger raised. One step backward and one thrust, and he could lay her dead at his feet. Had I been ready at the door for him, I could have killed him before he could have made these two movements; but from where I stood, I could not have done so. So I listened in some chagrin to the governor's words.

"I change the signal, Montignac. At one stroke, do not harm the lady, but come hither; but should you hear two strokes, or three, or any number more, she is to be sacrificed."

"My dagger is ready, monsieur!"

Again the door closed; again I was alone with La Chatre.

I had lost my former advantage. For now, should I strike my tray once, for the purpose of summoning Montignac, so that I might be at the door to slay him at first sight, the governor could strike his bowl, and Montignac would hear two strokes or more--signal for mademoiselle's death.

"And now, monsieur," said the governor, making himself comfortable in his chair between table and fireplace, "let us talk. You see, if you approach me or that door, or if you start to leave this chamber, I can easily strike the bowl twice before you take three steps."

I could see that he was not as easy in his mind as he pretended to be. It was true that, as matters now were, his life was secure through my regard for mademoiselle's; but were he to attempt leaving the room or calling help, or, indeed, if help were to come uncalled, and I should find my own life or liberty threatened, I might risk anything, even mademoiselle's life, for the sake of revenge on him. He would not dare save himself by letting me go free out of his own chateau. To do that would bring down the wrath of the Duke of Guise, would mean ruin. That I knew well. If I should go to leave the chamber, he would give the signal for Montignac to kill mademoiselle. As for me. I did not wish to go without her or until I should have accomplished a certain design I had conceived. Thus I was La Chatre's prisoner, and he was mine. Each could only hope, by thought or talk, to arrive at some means of getting the better of the other.

La Chatre's back was towards the door by which I had entered. By mere chance, it seemed, I turned my head towards that door. At that instant, my man, Frojac, appeared in the doorway. He had approached with the silence of a ghost. He carried the arquebus that had belonged to the guardsman, and his match was burning. Risking all on the possible effect of a sudden surprise on the governor, I cried, sharply:

"Fire on that man, Frojac, if he moves."

La Chatre, completely startled, rose from his chair and turned about, forgetful of the stick and bowl. When his glance reached Frojac, my good man had his arquebus on a line with the governor's head, the match dangerously near the breech.

"I have looked after the guards, monsieur," said Frojac, cheerily, "both of them."

"Stand where you are," said I to him, "and if that gentleman attempts to strike that bowl, see that he does not live to strike it more than once."

"He shall not strike it even once, monsieur!"

"You see, M. de la Chatre," said I, "the contents of an arquebus travel faster than a man can."

"This is unfair!" were the first words of the governor, after his season of dumb astonishment.

"Pardon me," said I. "It is but having you, let us say, at a slight disadvantage; and now I think I may move."

I walked over to the governor's table and took up the bowl. La Chatre watched me in helpless chagrin, informing himself by a side glance that Frojac's weapon still covered him.

"You look somewhat irritated and disgusted, monsieur," said I. "Pray sit down!"

As I held my sword across the table, the point in close proximity to his chest, he obeyed, uttering a heavy sigh at his powerlessness. I then threw the bowl into the bed, taking careful aim so that it might make no sound. At that moment I saw La Chatre look towards the chamber in which were Montignac and mademoiselle, and there came on his face the sign of a half-formed project.

"See also, Frojac," said I, "that he does not open his mouth to shout."

"He shall be as silent as if born dumb, monsieur."

"Oh, he may speak, but not so loud as to be heard in the next chamber.

Look to it, Frojac."

"Very well, monsieur."