Chatillon to get certain papers and——" 

 "Why all this bother and explanation?" burst out Sir Gervaise.  "Tell him to cut these lashes and release me from this cursed bondage," he added in English. 

 "That is quite another matter, sir," said Marteau gravely.  "I regret that you are an enemy and that I can not——" 

 "But we are not enemies, Monsieur," cried one of the officers, who had just succeeded in working a gag out of his mouth.  "We are Russian officers of the Imperial Guard and since you have deserted the cause of the Corsican you will——" 

 "Deserted!" thundered Marteau, his pale face flaming.  "That was as much a ruse as the other." 

 "What, then, do you mean by wearing a Russian coat over your uniform and——" 

 "He is a spy. He shall be hanged," said the other, also freeing himself of his gag. 

 "Indeed," laughed Marteau.  "And do you gentlemen ask me to release you in order that you may hang me?" 

 "I won't hang you," burst out the Englishman.  "On the contrary, I'll give you fifty pounds if you'll cut these cords and——" 

 Marteau shook his head. 

 "Countess," bellowed Yeovil angrily, "there's a knife on the table yonder, pray do you——" 

 The young woman made a swift step in that direction, but the Frenchman was too quick for her. 

 "Pardon me, mademoiselle, I beg that the first use you make of your new life be not to aid my enemies." 

 "Your enemies, Marteau?" 

 "The enemies of France, then." 

 "Not my uncle's France," said the girl. 

 "But your father's, and I had hoped yours." 

 "No, no." 

 "In any event, these gentlemen must remain bound for the time being. No harm shall come to you from me," continued Marteau, addressing the two officers.  "But as for these hounds——"  He stepped over to the two Cossacks, who lay mute. He bent over them with such a look of rage, ruthless determination and evil purpose in his face as startled the woman into action. 

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