'
'Yes,' I answered with a touch of bitterness. 'I wish that they
had not shot my poor man before they went.'
He shrugged his shoulders.
'They were my friends,' he said. 'You must not expect me to
blame them. But that is not all, M. de Berault.'
'No,' I said, wiping my sword. 'There is this gentleman in the
mask.' And I turned to go towards him.
'M. de Berault!' Cocheforet called after me, his tone strained
and abrupt.
I stood. 'Pardon?' I said, turning,
'That gentleman?' he said, hesitating and looking at me
doubtfully. 'Have you considered what will happen to him if you
give him up to the authorities?'
'Who is he?' I asked sharply.
'That is rather a delicate question,' he answered frowning.
'Not for me,' I replied brutally, 'since he is in my power. If
he will take off his mask I shall know better what I intend to do
with him.'
The stranger had lost his hat in his fall, and his fair hair,
stained with dust, hung in curls on his shoulders. He was a tall
man, of a slender, handsome presence, and, though his dress was
plain and almost rough, I espied a splendid jewel on his hand,
and fancied that I detected other signs of high quality.
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