hold on. 

 The troopers outside were very much astonished to find the heavy door closed and the two sentries dead on the terrace. They dismounted from their horses at the foot of the terrace and crowded about the door, upon which they beat with their pistols, at the same time shouting the names and titles of the officers within. Inside the great hall Marteau had once more taken command. In all this excitement Laure d'Aumenier had stood like a stone, apparently indifferent to the appeals of the four bound men on the floor and the Englishman in the chair that she cut the ropes with which they were bound, while the French officer was busy at the door. Perhaps that young peasant might have prevented her, but as a matter of fact, she made no attempt to answer their pleas. She stood waiting and watching. Just as Marteau reëntered the room the chief Russian officer shouted out a command. From where he lay on the floor his voice did not carry well and there was too much tumult outside for anyone to hear. In a second Marteau was over him. 

 "If you open your mouth again, monsieur," he said fiercely, "I shall have to choose between gagging and killing you, and I incline to the latter. And these other gentlemen may take notice. You, what are you named?" 

 "Pierre Lebois, sir," answered the peasant. 

 "Can you fire a gun?" 

 "Give me a chance," answered the young fellow.  "I've got people dead, yonder, to avenge." 

 The brigands had left the swords and pistols of the officers on chairs, tables and the floor. There were eight pistols. Marteau gathered them up. The English baronet yielded one other, a huge, heavy, old-fashioned weapon. 

 "There are loopholes in the shutters yonder," said the officer.  "Do you take that one, I will take the other. They will get away from the door in a moment and as soon as you can see them fire." 

 "Mademoiselle," said the Russian officer desperately, "I shall have to report to the commander of the guard and he to the Czar that you gave aid and comfort to our enemies." 

 "But what can I do?" asked the young woman.  "Monsieur Marteau could certainly shoot me if I attempted——" 

 "Assuredly," said Marteau, smiling at her in a way anything but fierce. 

 It was that implicit trust in her that restrained her and saved him. 

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