'
'You are not, then, the gentleman who has been honouring my poor
house with his presence?'
'Oh, yes!' the Lieutenant struck in, grinning. 'He is that
gentleman, too.'
'But I thought--I understood that that was M. de Barthe!'
'I am M. de Barthe, also,' I retorted impatiently. 'What of
that, Monsieur? It was my mother's name. I took it when I came
down here.'
'To--er--to arrest me, may I ask?'
'Yes,' I said, doggedly; 'to arrest you. What of that?'
'Nothing,' he replied slowly and with a steady look at me--a look
I could not meet. 'Except that, had I known this before, M. de
Berault I should have thought longer before I surrendered to
you.'
The Lieutenant laughed, and I felt my cheek burn; but I affected
to see nothing, and turned to him again. 'Now, Monsieur,' I
said, 'are you satisfied?'
'No,' he answered? 'I am not! You two may have rehearsed this
pretty scene a dozen times. The word, it seems to me, is--Quick
march, back to quarters.'
At length I found myself driven to play my last card; much
against my will.
'Not so,' I said. 'I have my commission.
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