/ f 
 
 o
 
 Captain Dieppe
 
 |W1V. OF CAUF. LWRABY, LOS
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 By 
 
 Anthony Hope 
 
 Author of " The Prisoner of Zenda," 
 "Rupert of Hentzau," etc., etc. 
 
 Doubleday, Page & Co. 
 New York 1902 
 
 <o
 
 Copyright, 1899, by ANTHONY HOPE HAWKINS. 
 Copyright, 1899, by CURTIS PUBLISHING Co. 
 Copyright, 1900, by ANTHONY HOPE HAWKINS.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGK 
 
 i. THE HOUSE ON THE BLUFF . . 3 
 
 n. THE MAN BY THE STREAM . . 23 
 
 in. THE LADY IN THE GARDEN . . 39 
 
 iv. THE INN IN THE VILLAGE . . 56 
 
 v. THE RENDEZVOUS BY THE CROSS 75 
 
 vi. THE HUT IN THE HOLLOW . . 92 
 
 vn. THE FLOOD ON THE RIVER . . 116 
 
 viii. THE CARRIAGE AT THE FORD . 139 
 
 ix. THE STRAW IN THE CORNER . . 162 
 
 x. THE JOURNEY TO ROME . . . 185 
 
 xi. THE LUCK OF THE CAPTAIN . . 209
 
 Captain Dieppe
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE HOUSE ON THE BLUFF 
 
 To the eye of an onlooker Captain 
 Dieppe's circumstances afforded high 
 spirits no opportunity, and made or- 
 dinary cheerfulness a virtue which a 
 stoic would not have disdained to own. 
 Fresh from the failure of important 
 plans; if not exactly a fugitive, still a 
 man to whom recognition would be in- 
 convenient and perhaps dangerous ; with 
 fifty francs in his pocket, and his spare 
 wardrobe in a knapsack on his back; 
 without immediate prospect of future 
 employment or a replenishment of his 
 purse ; yet by no means in his first youth 
 3
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 or of an age when men love to begin the 
 world utterly afresh ; in few words, with 
 none of those inner comforts of the mind 
 which make external hardships no more 
 than a pleasurable contrast, he marched 
 up a long steep hill in the growing dusk 
 of a stormy evening, his best hope to 
 find, before he was soaked to the skin, 
 some poor inn or poorer cottage where 
 he might get food and beg shelter from 
 the severity of the wind and rain that 
 swept across the high ground and 
 swooped down on the deep valleys, seem- 
 ing to assail with a peculiar, conscious 
 malice the human figure which faced 
 them with unflinching front and the 
 buoyant step of strength and confidence. 
 But the Captain was an alchemist, and 
 the dross of outer events turned to gold 
 in the marvellous crucible of his mind. 
 Fortune should have known this and 
 abandoned the vain attempt to torment 
 him. He had failed, but no other man 
 could have come so near success. He 
 was alone, therefore free : poor, therefore 
 4
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 independent: desirous of hiding, there- 
 fore of importance: in a foreign land, 
 therefore well placed for novel and 
 pleasing accidents. The rain was a drop 
 and the wind a puff: if he were wet, it 
 would be delightf ul to get dry ; since he 
 was hungry, no inn could be too humble 
 and no fare too rough. Fortune should 
 indeed have set him on high, and turned 
 her wasted malice on folk more pene- 
 trable by its stings. 
 
 The Captain whistled and sang. What 
 a fright he had given the Ministers, how 
 nearly he had brought back the Prince, 
 what an uncommon and intimate satis- 
 faction of soul came from carrying, under 
 his wet coat, lists of names, letters, and 
 what not all capable of causing tremors 
 in high quarters, and of revealing in 
 spheres of activity hitherto unsuspected 
 gentlemen aye, and ladies of the lofti- 
 est position; all of whom (the Captain 
 was piling up his causes of self-congrat- 
 ulation) owed their present safety, and 
 directed their present anxieties, to him, 
 5
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Jean Dieppe, and to nobody else in the 
 world. He broke off his whistling to 
 observe aloud : 
 
 " Mark this, it is to very few that there 
 comes a life so interesting as mine"; and 
 his tune began again with an almost rol- 
 licking vigour. 
 
 What he said was perhaps true enough, 
 if interest consists (as many hold) in un- 
 certainty ; in his case uncertainty both of 
 life and of all that life gives, except that 
 one best thing which he had pursued 
 activity. Of fame he had gained little, 
 peace he had never tasted ; of wealth he 
 had never thought; of love ah, of love 
 now? His smile and the roguish shake 
 of his head and pull at his long black 
 moustache betrayed no dissatisfaction on 
 that score. And as a fact (a thing which 
 must at the very beginning be distin- 
 guished from an impression of the Cap- 
 tain's), people were in the habit of loving 
 him : he never expected exactly this, al- 
 though he had much self-confidence. 
 Admiration was what he readily enough 
 6
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 conceived himself to inspire ; love was a 
 greater thing. On the whole, a fine life 
 why, yes, a very fine life indeed; and 
 plenty of it left, for he was but thirty- 
 nine. 
 
 " It really rains," he remarked at last, 
 with an air of amiable surprise. " I am 
 actually getting wet. I should be pleased 
 to come to a village." 
 
 Fortune may be imagined as petu- 
 lantly flinging this trifling favour at his 
 head, in the hope, maybe, of making him 
 realise the general undesirability of his 
 lot. At any rate, on rounding the next 
 corner of the ascending road, he saw a 
 small village lying beneath him in the 
 valley. Immediately below him, at the 
 foot of what was almost a precipice, ap- 
 proached only by a rough zigzag path, 
 lay a little river ; the village was directly 
 opposite across the stream, but the road, 
 despairing of such a dip, swerved sharp 
 otf to his left, and, descending gradually, 
 circled one end of the valley till it came 
 to a bridge and thence made its way 
 7
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 round to the cluster of houses. There 
 were no more than a dozen cottages, a 
 tiny church, and an inn certainly an 
 inn, thought Dieppe, as he prepared to 
 follow the road and pictured his supper 
 already on the fire. But before he set 
 out, he turned to his right ; and there he 
 stood looking at a scene of some beauty 
 and of undeniable interest. A moment 
 later he began to walk slowly up-hill in 
 the opposite direction to that which the 
 road pursued; he was minded to see a 
 little more of the big house perched so 
 boldly on that bluff above the stream, 
 looking down so scornfully at the humble 
 village on the other bank. 
 
 But habitations are made for men, and 
 to Captain Dieppe beauties of position or 
 architecture were subordinate to any in- 
 dications he might discover or imagine 
 of the characters of the folk who dwelt 
 in a house and of their manner of living. 
 Thus, not so much the position of the 
 Castle (it could and did claim that title), 
 or its handsome front, or the high wall 
 8
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 that enclosed it and its demesne on every 
 side save where it faced the river, caught 
 his attention as the apparently trifling 
 fact that, whereas one half of the facade 
 was brilliant with lights in every window, 
 the other half was entirely dark and, 
 to all seeming, uninhabited. " They are 
 poor, they live in half the rooms only," 
 he said to himself. But somehow this 
 explanation sounded inadequate. He 
 drew nearer, till he was close under the 
 wall of the gardens. Then he noticed 
 a small gate in the wall, sheltered by 
 a little projecting porch. The Captain 
 edged under the porch, took out a cigar, 
 contrived to light it, and stood there 
 puffing pensively. He was protected 
 from the rain, which now fell very heav- 
 ily, and he was asking himself again why 
 only half the house was lighted up. This 
 was the kind of trivial, yet whimsical, puz- 
 zle on which he enjoyed trying his wits. 
 He had stood where he was for a few 
 minutes when he heard steps on the other 
 side of the wall ; a moment later a key 
 9
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 turned in the lock and the gate opened. 
 Dieppe turned to find himself confronted 
 by a young man of tall stature ; the dim 
 light showed only the vague outline of 
 a rather long and melancholy, but cer- 
 tainly handsome, face ; the stranger's air 
 was eminently distinguished. Dieppe 
 raised his hat and bowed. 
 
 "You '11 excuse the liberty," he said, 
 smiling. " I 'm on my way to the village 
 yonder to find quarters for the night. 
 Your porch offered me a short rest and 
 shelter from the rain while I smoked a 
 cigar. I presume that I have the honour 
 of addressing the owner of this fine 
 house ? " 
 
 "You 're right, sir. I am the Count 
 of Fieramondi," said the young man, 
 " and this is my house. Do me the favour 
 to enter it and refresh yourself." 
 
 " Oh, but you entertain company, and 
 look at me ! " With a smile Dieppe in- 
 dicated his humble and travel- worn ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " Company ? None, I assure you." 
 10
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 " But the lights ? " suggested the Cap- 
 tain, with a wave of his hand. 
 
 "You will find me quite alone," the 
 Count assured him, as he turned into the 
 garden and motioned his guest to follow. 
 
 Crossing a path and a stretch of grass, 
 they entered a room opening immediately 
 on the garden; it was large and high. 
 
 Situated at the corner of the house, it 
 had two windows facing on the garden 
 and two towards the river. It was richly 
 and soberly furnished, and hung with 
 family portraits. A blazing fire revealed 
 these features to Dieppe, and at the same 
 time imparted a welcome glow to his 
 body. The next minute a man-servant 
 entered with a pair of candlesticks, which 
 he set on the table. 
 
 " I am about to dine," said the Count. 
 "Will you honour me with your com- 
 pany ? " 
 
 "Your kindness to a complete stran- 
 ger" Dieppe began. 
 
 "The kindness will be yours. Com- 
 pany is a favour to one who lives alone." 
 11
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 And the Count proceeded to give the 
 necessary orders to his servant. Then, 
 turning again to Dieppe, he said, "In 
 return, pray let me know the name of 
 the gentleman who honours my house." 
 
 " I can refuse nothing to my host to 
 anybody else my name is the only thing 
 I should refuse. I am called Captain 
 Dieppe." 
 
 " Of the French service * Though you 
 speak Italian excellently." 
 
 " Ah, that accent of mine ! No, not of 
 the French service in fact, not of any 
 service. I have been in many services, 
 but I can show you no commission as 
 captain." 
 
 For the first time the Count smiled. 
 
 " It is, perhaps, a sobriquet ? " he asked, 
 but with no offensive air or insinuation. 
 
 "The spontaneous tribute of my com- 
 rades all over the world," answered Dieppe, 
 proudly "is it for me to refuse it?" 
 
 " By no means," agreed his host, smil- 
 ing still; "I don't doubt that you have 
 amply earned it." 
 
 12
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 Dieppe's bow confirmed the supposition 
 while it acknowledged the compliment. 
 
 Civilities such as these, when aided by 
 dinner and a few glasses of red wine, 
 soon passed into confidences on the Cap- 
 tain's side at least. Accustomed to keep 
 other people's secrets, he burdened him- 
 self with few of his own. 
 
 "I have always had something of a 
 passion for politics," he confessed, after 
 giving his host an account of some stir- 
 ring events in South America in which 
 he had borne a part. 
 
 "You surprise me," was the Count's 
 comment. 
 
 "Perhaps I should say," Dieppe ex- 
 plained, " for handling those forces which 
 lie behind politics. That has been my 
 profession." The Count looked up. 
 
 "Oh, I 'm no sentimentalist," Dieppe 
 went on. "I ask for my pay I receive 
 it and sometimes I contrive to keep it." 
 
 "You interest me," said his host, in 
 whose manner Dieppe recognised an 
 attractive simplicity. 
 13
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " But in my last enterprise well, there 
 are accidents in every trade." His shrug 
 was very good-natured. 
 
 "The enterprise failed?" asked the 
 Count, sympathetically. 
 
 "Certainly, or I should not be enjoy- 
 ing your hospitality. Moreover I failed 
 too ; for I had to skip out of the country 
 in such haste that I left behind me fifty 
 thousand francs, and the police have laid 
 hands on it. It was my what shall I 
 call it ? My little pwirboire." He sighed 
 lightly, and then smiled again. " So I 
 am a homeless wanderer, content if I can 
 escape the traps of police agents." 
 
 " You anticipate being annoyed in that 
 way?" 
 
 " They are on my track, depend upon 
 it." He touched the outside of his breast 
 pocket. "I carry but no matter. The 
 pursuit only adds a spice to my walks, 
 and so long as I don't need to sell my re- 
 volver for bread". He checked himself 
 abruptly, a frown of shame or vexation 
 on his face. "I beg your pardon," he 
 14
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 went on, " I beg your pardon. But you 
 won't take me for a beggar ? " 
 
 " I regret what you have said only be- 
 cause you said it before I had begged a 
 favour of you a favour I had resolved 
 to venture on asking. But come, though 
 I don't think you a beggar, you shall be 
 sure that I am one." He rose and laid 
 his hand on Dieppe's shoulder. "Stay 
 with me for to-night at least and for as 
 much longer as you will. Nobody will 
 trouble you. I live in solitude, and your 
 society will lighten it. Let me ring and 
 give orders for your entertainment ? n 
 
 Dieppe looked up at him; the next 
 moment he caught his hand, crying, 
 " With all my heart, dear host ! Your 
 only difficulty shall be to get rid of me." 
 
 The Count rang, and directed his ser- 
 vant to prepare the Cardinal's Room. 
 Dieppe noticed that the order was re- 
 ceived with a glance of surprise, but the 
 master of the house repeated it, and, as 
 the servant withdrew, added, " It is called 
 after an old member of our family, but I 
 15
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 can answer for its comfort myself, for I 
 have occupied it until" 
 
 "I 'm turning you out?" exclaimed 
 Dieppe. 
 
 "I left it yesterday." The Count 
 frowned as he sipped his wine. " I left 
 it owing to er circumstances," he mur- 
 mured, with some appearance of embar- 
 rassment in his manner. 
 
 "His Eminence is restless?" asked the 
 Captain, laughing. 
 
 " I beg pardon ? " 
 
 "I mean a ghost?" 
 
 " No, a cat," was the Count's quiet but 
 somewhat surprising answer. 
 
 " I don't mind cats ; I am very fond of 
 them," Dieppe declared with the readiness 
 of good breeding, but he glanced at his 
 host with a curiosity that would not be 
 stifled. The Count lived in solitude. 
 Half his house and that the other half 
 was brilliantly lighted, and he left his 
 bedroom because of a cat. Here were 
 circumstances that might set the least 
 inquisitive of men thinking. It crossed 
 16
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 Dieppe's mind that his host was (he used 
 a mild word) eccentric, but the Count's 
 manner gave little warrant for the sup- 
 position ; and Dieppe could not believe 
 that so courteous a gentleman would 
 amuse himself by making fun of a guest. 
 He listened eagerly when the Count, 
 after a long silence, went on to say : 
 
 " The reason I put forward must, no 
 doubt, sound ludicrous, but the fact is 
 that the animal, in itself a harmless beast, 
 became the occasion, or was made the 
 means, of forcing on me encounters with 
 a person whom I particularly wish to 
 avoid. You, however, will not be an- 
 noyed in that way." 
 
 There he stopped, and turned the con- 
 versation to general topics. Never had 
 Dieppe's politeness been subjected to 
 such a strain. 
 
 No relief was granted to him. The 
 Count talked freely and well on a variety 
 of questions till eleven o'clock, and then 
 proposed to show his guest to his bed- 
 room. Dieppe accepted the offer in de- 
 17
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 spair, but he would have sat up all night 
 had there seemed any chance of the 
 Count's becoming more explicit. 
 
 The Cardinal's Room was a large 
 apartment situated on the upper floor 
 (there were but two), about the middle of 
 the house; its windows looked across 
 the river, which rippled pleasantly in the 
 quiet of the night when Dieppe flung 
 up the sash and put his head out. He 
 turned first to the left. Save his own 
 room, all was dark : the Count, no doubt, 
 slept at the back. Then, craning his 
 neck, he tried to survey the right wing. 
 The illumination was quenched; light 
 showed in one window only, a window on 
 the same level with his and distant from 
 it perhaps forty feet. With a deep sigh 
 the Captain drew his head back and shut 
 out the chilly air. 
 
 Ah, there was an inner door on the 
 right hand side of the room; that the 
 Captain had not noticed before. Walk- 
 ing up to it, he perceived that it was 
 bolted at top and bottom ; but the key 
 18
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 was in the lock. He stood and looked at 
 this door ; it seemed that it must lead, 
 either directly or by way of another 
 apartment between, to 'the room whose 
 lights he had just seen. He pulled his 
 moustache thoughtfully; and he remem- 
 bered that there was a person whom the 
 Count particularly wished to avoid and, 
 owing (in some way) to a cat, could not 
 rely on being able to avoid if he slept in 
 the Cardinal's Room. 
 
 "Well, then 1 ' began Dieppe with a 
 thoughtful frown. " Oh, I can't stand it 
 much longer ! " he ended, with a smile 
 and a shrug. 
 
 And then there came the Captain was 
 really not surprised, he had been almost 
 expecting it a mew, a peevish, plaintive 
 mew. " I won't open that door,'' said the 
 Captain. The complaint was repeated. 
 " Poor beast ! " murmured the Captain. 
 "Shut up in that in that deuce take 
 it, in that what ? " His hand shot up to 
 the top bolt and pressed it softly back. 
 "No, no," said he. Another mew de- 
 19
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 feated his struggling conscience. Push- 
 ing back the lower bolt in its turn, he 
 softly unlocked the door and opened it 
 cautiously. There in the passage for a 
 narrow passage some twelve or fifteen 
 feet long was revealed near his door, 
 visible in the light from his room, was a 
 large, sleek, yellow cat from whose mouth 
 was proceeding energetic lamentation. 
 But on sight of Dieppe the creature 
 ceased its cries, and in apparent alarm 
 ran half-way along the passage and sat 
 down beside a small hole in the wall. 
 From this position it regarded the in- 
 truder with solemn, apprehensive eyes. 
 Dieppe, holding his door wide open, re- 
 turned the animal's stare. This must be 
 the cat which had ejected the Count. 
 But why ? 
 
 In a moment the half-formed question 
 found its answer, though the answer 
 seemed rather to ask a new riddle than 
 to answer the old one. A door at the 
 other end of the passage opened a little 
 way, and a melodious voice called softly, 
 20
 
 The House on the Bluff 
 
 " Papa, papa ! " The cat ran towards the 
 speaker, the door was opened wide, and 
 for an instant Dieppe had the vision of a 
 beautiful young woman, clad in a white 
 dressing-gown and with hair about her 
 shoulders. As he saw her she saw him, 
 and gave a startled shriek. The cat, ap- 
 parently bewildered, raced back to the 
 aperture in the wall and disappeared with 
 an agitated whisk of its tail. The lady's 
 door and the Captain's closed with a 
 double simultaneous reverberating bang, 
 and the Captain drove his bolts home 
 with guilty haste. 
 
 His first act was to smoke a cigarette. 
 That done, he began to undress slowly 
 and almost unconsciously. During the 
 process he repeated to himself more than 
 once the Count's measured but emphatic 
 words: "A person whom I particularly 
 wish to avoid." The words died away as 
 Dieppe climbed into the big four-poster 
 with a wrinkle of annoyance on his brow. 
 
 For the lady at the other end of the 
 passage did not, to the Captain's mind, 
 21
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 look the sort of person whom a hand- 
 some and lonely young man would par- 
 ticularly wish to avoid. In spite of the 
 shortness of his vision, in spite of her 
 obvious alarm and confusion, she had, in 
 fact, seemed to him very much indeed the 
 opposite.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE MAN BY THE STREAM 
 
 Apart from personal hopes or designs, 
 the presence, or even the proximity, of a 
 beautiful woman is a cheerful thing: it 
 gives a man the sense of happiness, like 
 sunshine or sparkling water; these are 
 not his either, but he can look at and 
 enjoy them ; he smiles back at the world 
 in thanks for its bountiful favours. 
 Never had life seemed better to Dieppe 
 than when he awoke the next morning; 
 yet there was guilt on his conscience he 
 ought not to have opened that door. 
 But the guilt became parent to a new 
 pleasure and gave him the one thing 
 needful to perfection of existence a 
 pretty little secret of his own, and this 
 time one that he was minded to keep. 
 23
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "To think," he exclaimed, pointing a 
 scornful linger at the village across the 
 river, "that but for my luck I might be 
 at the inn ! Heaven above us, I might 
 even have been leaving this enchanting 
 spot ! " He looked down at the stream. 
 A man was fishing there, a tall, well-made 
 fellow in knickerbockers and a soft felt 
 hat of the sort sometimes called Tyrolean. 
 " Good luck to you, my boy ! " nodded the 
 happy and therefore charitable Captain. 
 
 Going down to the Count's pleasant 
 room at the corner of the left wing, he 
 found his host taking his coffee. Com- 
 pliments passed, and soon Dieppe was 
 promising to spend a week at least with 
 his new friend. 
 
 " I am a student," observed the Count, 
 " and you must amuse yourself. There 
 are fine walks, a little rough shooting 
 perhaps" 
 
 "Fishing?" asked Dieppe, thinking of 
 the man in the soft hat. 
 
 "The fishing is worth nothing at all," 
 answered the Count, decisively. He 
 24
 
 The Man by the Stream 
 
 paused for a moment and then went on : 
 ''There is, however, one request that I 
 am obliged to make to you." 
 
 "Any wish of yours is a command to 
 me, my dear host." 
 
 " It is that during your visit you will 
 hold no communication whatever with 
 the right wing of the house." The Count 
 was now lighting a cigar; he completed 
 the operation carefully, and then added : 
 " The Countess's establishment and mine 
 are entirely separate entirely." 
 
 " The Countess ! " exclaimed Dieppe, 
 not unnaturally surprised. 
 
 " I regret to trouble you with family 
 matters. My wife and I are not in agree- 
 ment ; we have n't met for three months. 
 She lives in the right wing with two ser- 
 vants ; I live in the left with three. We 
 hold no communication, and our servants 
 are forbidden to hold any among them- 
 selves; obedience is easier to insure as 
 we have kept only those we can trust, 
 and, since entertaining is out of the ques- 
 tion, have dismissed the rest." 
 25
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "You have er had a difference?" 
 the Captain ventured to suggest, for the 
 Count seemed rather embarrassed. 
 
 "A final and insuperable difference, a 
 final and permanent separation." The 
 Count's tone was sad but very firm. 
 
 "I am truly grieved. But forgive 
 me does n't the arrangement you indi- 
 cate entail some inconvenience ? " 
 
 " Endless inconvenience," assented the 
 Count. 
 
 "To live under the same roof, and 
 yet-" 
 
 " My dear sir, during the negotiations 
 which followed on the Countess's refusal 
 to to well, to meet my wishes, I repre- 
 sented that to her with all the emphasis 
 at my command. I am bound to add 
 that she represented it no less urgently 
 to me." 
 
 "On the other hand, of course, the 
 scandal" Dieppe began. 
 
 "We Fieramondi do not much mind 
 scandal. That was n't the difficulty. 
 The fact is that I thought it the 
 26
 
 The Man by the Stream 
 
 Countess's plain duty to relieve me of her 
 presence. She took what I may call the 
 exactly converse view. You follow me ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," said Dieppe, repressing an 
 inclination to smile. 
 
 " And declared that nothing nothing 
 on earth should induce her to quit the 
 Castle even for a day ; she would regard 
 such an act as a surrender. I said I 
 should regard my own departure in the 
 same light. So we stay here under the 
 extremely inconvenient arrangement I 
 have referred to. To make sure of my 
 noticing her presence, my wife indulges 
 in something approaching to an illumin- 
 ation every night." 
 
 The Count rose and began to walk up 
 and down as he went on with a marked 
 access of warmth. " But even the under- 
 standing we arrived at," he pursued, " I 
 regret to say that my wife did n't see fit 
 to adhere to in good faith. She treated 
 it with what I must call levity." He 
 faced round on his guest suddenly. "I 
 mentioned a cat to you," he said. 
 27
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "You did," Dieppe admitted, eyeing 
 him rather apprehensively. 
 
 "I don't know," pursued the Count, 
 " whether you noticed a door in your 
 room?" Dieppe nodded. "It was 
 bolted?" Dieppe nodded again. "If 
 you had opened that doorpardon the 
 supposition you would have seen a 
 passage. At the other end is another 
 door, leading to the Countess's apart- 
 ments. See, I will show you. This fork 
 is the door from your room ; this knife 
 is" 
 
 "I follow your description perfectly," 
 interposed Dieppe, assailed now with a 
 keener sense of guilt. 
 
 " The Countess possesses a cat a thing 
 to which in itself I have no objection. 
 To give this creature, which she likes to 
 have with her constantly, the opportunity 
 of exercise, she has caused an opening to 
 be made from the passage on to the roof. 
 This piece of bread will represent " 
 
 "I understand, I assure you," mur- 
 mured Dieppe. 
 
 28
 
 The Man by the Stream 
 
 "Every evening she lets the cat into 
 the passage, whence it escapes on to the 
 roof. On its return it would naturally 
 betake itself to her room again." 
 
 " Naturally," assented the Captain. 
 Are not cats most reasonable animals ? 
 
 "But," said the Count, beginning to 
 walk about again, " she shuts her door : 
 the animal mews at it; my wife ignores 
 the appeal. What then? The cat, in 
 despair, turns to my door. I take no 
 heed. It mews persistently. At last, 
 wearied of the noise, I open my door. 
 Always by design, as I believe at that 
 very moment my wife flings her door 
 open. You see the position ? " 
 
 " I can imagine it," said Dieppe, dis- 
 creetly. 
 
 "We are face to face! Nothing be- 
 tween us except the passage and the 
 cat ! And then the Countess, with what 
 I am compelled to term a singular offen- 
 siveness, not to say insolence, of manner, 
 slams the door in my face, leaving me to 
 deal with the cat as I best can! My 
 29
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 friend, it became intolerable. I sent a 
 message begging the Countess to do me 
 the favour of changing her apartment. 
 
 "She declined point-blank. I deter- 
 mined then to change mine, and sent word 
 of my intention to the Countess." He 
 flung himself into a chair. "Her reply 
 was to send back to me her marriage 
 contract and her wedding-ring, and to beg 
 to be informed whether my present stay 
 at the Castle was likely to be prolonged." 
 
 " And you replied ? " 
 
 " I made no reply," answered the Count, 
 crossing his legs. 
 
 A combination of feelings prevented 
 Dieppe from disclosing the incident of 
 the previous night. He loved a touch of 
 mystery and a possibility of romance. 
 Again, it is not the right thing for a 
 guest to open bolted doors. A man does 
 not readily confess to such a breach of 
 etiquette, and his inclination to make a 
 clean breast of it is not increased when it 
 turns out that the door in question leads 
 to the apartments of his host's wife. 
 30
 
 The Man by the Stream 
 
 Finally, the moment for candour had 
 slipped by : you cannot allow a man to 
 explain a locality by means of forks and 
 knives and pieces of bread and then in- 
 form him that you were all the while ac- 
 quainted with its features. Dieppe was 
 silent, and the Count, who was obviously 
 upset by the recital of his grievances, 
 presently withdrew to his study, a room 
 on the upper floor which looked out on 
 the gardens at the back of the house. 
 
 "What did they quarrel about?" 
 Dieppe asked himself; the Count had 
 thrown no light on that. u I '11 be 
 hanged if I 'd quarrel with her," smiled 
 the Captain, remembering the face he 
 had seen at the other end of the passage. 
 " But," he declared to himself, virtuously, 
 "the cat may mew till it's hoarse I 
 won't open that door again." With this 
 resolve strong in his heart, he took his 
 hat and strolled out into the garden. 
 
 He had no sooner reached the front of 
 the house than he gave an exclamation 
 of surprise. The expanse of rather rough 
 31
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 grass sprinkled with flower-beds, which 
 stretched from the Castle to the point 
 where the ground dipped steeply towards 
 the river, was divided across by a re- 
 markable structure a tall, new, bare 
 wooden fence, constituting a very sub- 
 stantial barrier. It stood a few paces to 
 the right of the window which the Cap- 
 tain identified as his own, and ran some 
 yards down the hill. Here was plain and 
 strong evidence of the state of war which 
 existed between the two wings. Neither 
 the Count nor the Countess would risk so 
 much as a sight of the other while they 
 took their respective promenades. The 
 Captain approached the obstacle and ex- 
 amined it with a humorous interest ; then 
 he glanced up at the wall above, drawing 
 a couple of feet back to get a better view. 
 "Ah," said he, "just half-way between 
 my window and hers ! They are very 
 punctilious, these combatants ! " 
 
 Natural curiosity must, so far as it can, 
 excuse Captain Dieppe for spending the 
 rest of the morning in what he termed a 
 32
 
 The Man by the Stream 
 
 reconnaissance of the premises, or that 
 part of them which was open to his in- 
 spection. He found little. There was 
 no sign of anybody entering or leaving 
 the other wing, although (as he discov- 
 ered on strolling round by the road) a 
 gate in the wall on the right of the gar- 
 dens, and a carriage-drive running up to 
 it, gave independent egress from that side 
 of the Castle. Breakfast with the Count 
 was no more fruitful of information ; the 
 Count discussed (apropos of a book at 
 which he had been glancing) the question 
 of the Temporal Power of the Papacy 
 with learning and some heat : he was, it 
 appeared, strongly opposed to these ec- 
 clesiastical claims, and spoke of them 
 with marked bitterness. Dieppe, very 
 little interested, escaped for a walk early 
 in the afternoon. It was five o'clock 
 when he regained the garden and stood 
 for a few moments looking down towards 
 the river. It was just growing dusk, and 
 the lights of the inn were visible in the 
 village across the valley. 
 33
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Fishermen are a persevering race , \he 
 young man in the soft hat was still at his 
 post. But no, he was not fishing! He 
 was walking up and down in a moody, 
 purposeless way, and it seemed to the 
 Captain that he turned his head very 
 often towards the Castle. The Captain 
 sat down on a garden-seat close under 
 the barricade and watched ; an idea was 
 stirring in his brain an idea that made 
 him pat his breast-pocket, twirl his mous- 
 tache, and smile contentedly. "Not 
 much of a fisherman, I think," he mur- 
 mured. " Ah, my friend, I know the cut 
 of your jib, I fancy. After poor old Jean 
 Dieppe, are n't you, my boy? A police- 
 spy ; I could tell him among a thousand ! " 
 
 Equally pleased with the discovery and 
 with his own acuteness in making it, the 
 Captain laughed aloud; then in an in- 
 stant he sat bolt upright, stiff and still, 
 listening intently. For through the bar- 
 ricade had come two sounds a sweet, 
 low, startled voice, that cried half in a 
 whisper, " Heavens, he 's there!" and 
 34
 
 The Man by the Stream 
 
 then the rustle of skirts in hasty flight. 
 Without an instant's thought without 
 remembering his promise to the Count- 
 Dieppe sprang up, ran down the hill, 
 turned the corner of the barricade, and 
 found himself in the Countess's territory. 
 
 He was too late. The lady had made 
 good her escape. There was nobody to 
 be seen except the large yellow cat : it sat 
 on the path and blinked gravely at the 
 chagrined Captain. 
 
 " Animal, you annoy me ! " he said with 
 a stamp of his foot. The cat rose, turned, 
 and walked away with its tail in the air. 
 " I 'm making a fool of myself," muttered 
 Dieppe. " Or," he amended with a dawn- 
 ing smile, " she 's making a fool of me." 
 His smile broadened a little. "Why 
 not?" he asked. Then he drew himself 
 up and slowly returned to his own side 
 of the barricade, shaking his head and 
 murmuring, "No, no, Jean, my boy, no, 
 no ! He 's your host your host, Jean," 
 as he again seated himself on the bench 
 under the barricade. 
 35
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Evening was now falling fast; the 
 fisherman was no longer to be seen ; per- 
 fect peace reigned over the landscape. 
 Dieppe yawned ; perfect peace was with 
 him a synonym for intolerable dulness. 
 
 " Permit me, my dear friend," said a 
 voice behind him, " to read you a little 
 poem which I have beguiled my leisure 
 by composing." 
 
 He turned to find the Count behind 
 him, holding a sheet of paper. 
 
 Probably the poet had his composition 
 by heart, for the light seemed now too 
 dim to read by. However this may be, a 
 rich and tender voice recited to Dieppe's 
 sympathetic ears as pretty a little appeal 
 (so the Captain thought) as had ever been 
 addressed by lover to an obdurate or ca- 
 pricious lady. The Captain's eyes filled 
 with tears as he listened tears for the 
 charm of the verse, for the sad beauty of 
 the sentiment, also, alas, for the unhappy 
 gentleman from whose heart came verse 
 and sentiment. 
 
 " My friend, you love ! " cried the Cap- 
 
 36
 
 The Man by the Stream 
 
 tain, holding out his hand as the Count 
 ended his poem and folded up the paper. 
 
 "And you are unhappy," he added. 
 
 The Count smiled in a sad but friendly 
 fashion. 
 
 " Is n't it the same thing ? " he asked. 
 " And at any rate as to me you are right." 
 
 Dieppe wrung his hand. The Count, 
 apparently much moved, turned and 
 walked slowly away, leaving Dieppe to 
 his meditations. 
 
 "He loves her." That was the form 
 they took. Whatever the meaning of the 
 quarrel, the Count loved his wife ; it was 
 to her the poem was written, hers was 
 the heart which it sought to soften. Yet 
 she had not looked hard-hearted. No, 
 she had looked adorable, frankly ador- 
 able; a lady for whose sake any man, 
 even so wise and experienced a man as 
 Captain Dieppe, might well commit many 
 a folly, and have many a heartache; a 
 lady for whom 
 
 " Rascal that I am ! " cried the Cap- 
 tain, interrupting himself and springing 
 37
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 up. He raised his hand in the air and 
 declared aloud with emphasis : " On my 
 honour, I will think no more of her. I 
 will think, I say, no more of her." 
 
 On the last word came a low laugh 
 from the other side of the barricade. 
 The Captain started, looked round, 
 listened, smiled, frowned, pulled his 
 moustache. Then, with extraordinary 
 suddenness, resolution, and fierceness, 
 he turned and walked quickly away. 
 " Honour, honour ! " he was saying to 
 himself ; and the path of honour seemed 
 to lie in flight. Unhappily, though, the 
 Captain was more accustomed to ad- 
 vance.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE LADY IN THE GARDEN 
 
 It is possible that Captain Dieppe, full 
 of contentment with the quarters to 
 which fortune had guided him, under- 
 rated the merits and attractions of the 
 inn in the village across the river. Fare 
 and accommodation indeed were plain 
 and rough at the Aquila Nera, but the 
 company round its fireside would have 
 raised his interest. On one side of the 
 hearth sat the young fisherman, he in 
 whom Dieppe had discovered a police-spy 
 on the track of the secrets in that breast- 
 pocket of the Captain's. Oh, these dis- 
 coveries of the Captain's ! For M. Paul 
 de Roustache was not a police-spy, and, 
 moreover, had ne.ver seen the gallant 
 Captain in his life, and took no interest 
 in him a state of things most unlikely 
 39
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 to occur to the Captain's mind. Had 
 Paul, then, fished for fishing's sake ? It by 
 no means followed, if only the Captain 
 could have remembered that there were 
 other people in the world besides himself 
 and one or two others even in the 
 Count of Fieramondi's house. " I ? 11 get 
 at her if I can ; but if she 's obstinate, 
 I '11 go to the Count in the last resort 
 I '11 go to the Count, for I mean to have 
 the money." Reflections such as these 
 (and they were M. de Roustache's at this 
 moment) would have shown even Captain 
 Dieppe not, perhaps, that he had done 
 the fisherman an injustice, for the police 
 may be very respectable but at least 
 that he had mistaken his errand and his 
 character. 
 
 But however much it might be abashed 
 momentarily, the Captain's acumen would 
 not have been without a refuge. Who 
 was the elderly man with stooping 
 shoulders and small keen eyes, who sat 
 on the other side of the fire, and had 
 been engaged in persuading Paul that 
 40
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 he too was a fisherman, that he too loved 
 beautiful scenery, that he too travelled 
 for pleasure, and, finally, that his true, 
 rightful, and only name was Monsieur 
 Guillaume? To which Paul had re- 
 sponded in kind, save that he had not 
 volunteered his name. And now each 
 was wondering what the other wanted, 
 and each was wishing very much that the 
 other would seek his bed, so that the inn 
 might be sunk in quiet and a gentleman 
 be at liberty to go about his private busi- 
 ness unobserved. 
 
 The landlord came in, bringing a couple 
 of candles, and remarking that it was 
 hard on ten o'clock ; but let not the gen- 
 tlemen hurry themselves. The guests 
 sat a little while longer, exchanged a re- 
 mark or two on the prospects of the 
 weather, and then, each despairing of 
 outstaying the other, went their respec- 
 tive ways to bed. 
 
 Almost at the same moment, up at the 
 Castle, Dieppe was saying to his host, 
 "Good night, my friend, good night. 
 41
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 I 'm not for bed yet. The night is fine, 
 and I '11 take a stroll in the garden." A 
 keen observer might have noticed that 
 the Captain did not meet his friend's eye 
 as he spoke. There was a touch of guilt 
 in his air, which the Count's abstraction 
 did not allow him to notice. Conscience 
 was having a hard battle of it ; would the 
 Captain keep on the proper side of the 
 barricade ? 
 
 Monsieur Guillaume, owing to his pro- 
 fession or his temperament, was a man 
 who, if the paradox may be allowed, was 
 not surprised at surprises. Accordingly 
 when he himself emerged from the bed- 
 room to which he had retired, took the 
 path across the meadow from the inn 
 towards the river, and directed his course 
 to the stepping-stones which he had 
 marked as he strolled about before din- 
 ner, he was merely interested and in no 
 way astonished to perceive his companion 
 of the fireside in front of him ; the moon, 
 nearly full, revealed Paul's Tyrolean 
 headpiece mounting the hill on the far 
 42
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 side of the stream. Guillaume followed 
 it, crossed the river at the cost of wet 
 boots, ascended the slope, and crouched 
 down behind a bush a few yards from 
 the top. He had gained on Paul, and ar- 
 rived at his hiding-place in time to hear 
 the exclamation wrung from his precursor 
 by the sudden sight of the barricade : from 
 the valley below the erection had been 
 so hidden by bushes as to escape notice. 
 
 " What the devil's that for ? " exclaimed 
 Paul de Roustache in a low voice. He 
 was not left without an answer. The 
 watcher had cause for the smile that 
 spread over his face, as, peeping out, he 
 saw a man's figure rise from a seat and 
 come forward. The next moment Paul 
 was addressed in smooth and suave tones, 
 and in his native language, which he had 
 hurriedly employed in his surprised ejac- 
 ulation. 
 
 "That, sir," said Dieppe, waving his 
 hand towards the barricade, "is erected 
 in order to prevent intrusion. But it 
 does n't seem to be very successful-" 
 43
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "Who are you?" demanded Paul, an- 
 grily- 
 
 "I should, I think, be the one to ask 
 that question," Dieppe answered with a 
 smile. "It is not, I believe, your gar- 
 den?" His emphasis on "your" came 
 very near to an assertion of proprietor- 
 ship in himself. " Pray, sir, to what am 
 I indebted for the honour of this meet- 
 ing?" The Captain was enjoying this 
 unexpected encounter with his supposed 
 pursuer. Apparently the pursuer did not 
 know him. Very well; he would take 
 advantage of that bit of stupidity on the 
 part of the pursuer's superior officers. 
 It was like them to send a man who 
 did n't know him ! " You wish to see 
 some one in the house?" he asked, look- 
 ing at Paul's angry and puzzled face. 
 
 But Paul began to recover his cool- 
 ness. 
 
 "I am indeed to blame for my intru- 
 sion," he said. " I 'm passing the night 
 at the inn, and tempted by the mildness 
 of the air" 
 
 44
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 "It is certainly very mild," agreed 
 Dieppe. 
 
 "I strolled across the stepping-stones 
 and up the hill. I admire the appearance 
 of a river by night." 
 
 "Certainly, certainly. But, sir, the 
 river does not run in this garden." 
 
 "Of course not, M. le Comte," said 
 Paul, forcing a smile. "At least I pre- 
 sume that I address ? " 
 
 Dieppe took off his hat, bowed, and re- 
 placed it. He had, however, much ado 
 not to chuckle. 
 
 " But I was led on by the sight of this 
 remarkable structure." He indicated the 
 barricade again. 
 
 " There was nothing else you wished to 
 see ? " 
 
 " On my honour, nothing. And I must 
 offer you my apologies." 
 
 " As for the structure" added Dieppe, 
 shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 "Yes?" cried Paul, with renewed in- 
 terest. 
 
 "Its purpose is to divide the garden 
 45
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 into two portions. No more and no less, 
 I assure you." 
 
 Paul's face took on an ugly expression. 
 
 " I am at such a disadvantage," he ob- 
 served, " that I cannot complain of M. le 
 Comte's making me the subject of pleas- 
 antry. Under other circumstances I 
 might raise different emotions in him. 
 Perhaps I shall have my opportunity." 
 
 " When you find me, sir, prowling 
 about other people's gardens by night" 
 
 " Prowling ! " interrupted Paul, fiercely. 
 
 " Well, then," said Dieppe, with an air 
 of courteous apology, " shall we say 
 skulking ? " 
 
 " You shall pay for that ! " 
 
 "With pleasure, if you convince me 
 that it is a gentleman who asks satisfac- 
 tion." 
 
 Paul de Koustache smiled. "At my 
 convenience," he said, " I will give you a 
 reference which shall satisfy you most 
 abundantly." He drew back, lifted his 
 hat, and bowed. 
 
 "I shall await it with interest," said 
 46
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 Dieppe, returning tlie salutation, and 
 then folding his arms and watching 
 Paul's retreat down the hill. " The fel- 
 low brazened it out well/' he reflected ; 
 " but I shall hear no more of him, I fancy. 
 After all, police-agents don't fight duels 
 with why, with Counts, you know ! " 
 And his laugh rang out in hearty enjoy- 
 ment through the night air. " Ha, ha- 
 lt 's not so easy to put salt on old Dieppe's 
 tail ! " With a sigh of satisfaction he 
 turned round, as though to go back to 
 the house. But his eye was caught by a 
 light in the window next to his own ; and 
 the window was open. The Captain 
 stood and looked up, and Monsieur Guil- 
 laume, who had overheard his little solil- 
 oquy and discovered from it a fact of 
 great interest to himself, seized the op- 
 portunity of rising from behind bis bush 
 and stealing off down the hill after Paul 
 de Roustache. 
 
 " Ah," thought the Captain, as he gazed 
 at the window, "if there were no such thing 
 as honour or loyalty, as friendship" 
 47
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " Sir," said a timid voice at his elbow. 
 
 Dieppe shot round, and then and there 
 lost his heart. One sight of her a man 
 might endure and be heart-whole, not 
 two. There, looking up at him with the 
 most bewitching mouth, the most destruc- 
 tive eyes, was the lady whom he had seen 
 at the end of the passage. Certainly she 
 was the most irresistible creature he had 
 ever met ; so he declared to himself, not, 
 indeed, for the first time in his life, but 
 none the less with unimpeachable sincer- 
 ity. For a man could do nothing but 
 look at her, and the man who looked at 
 her had to smile at her; then if she 
 smiled, the man had to laugh ; and what 
 happened afterwards would depend on the 
 inclinations of the lady : at least it would 
 not be very safe to rely on the principles 
 of the gentleman. 
 
 But now she was not 'laughing. Gen- 
 uine and deep distress was visible on her 
 face. 
 
 "Madame la Comtesse " stammered 
 the dazzled Captain. 
 48
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 For an instant she looked at him, 
 seeming, he thought, to ask if she could 
 trust him. Then she said impatiently: 
 " Yes, yes ; but never mind that. Who 
 are you? Oh, why did you tell him you 
 were the Count? Oh, you 've ruined 
 everything ! " 
 
 "Ruined-?" 
 
 " Yes, yes ; because now he '11 write to 
 the Count. Oh, I heard your quarrel. I 
 listened from the window. Oh, I did n't 
 think anybody could be as stupid as you ! " 
 
 " Madame ! " pleaded the unhappy Cap- 
 tain. "I thought the fellow was a police- 
 agent on my track, and " 
 
 "On your track? Oh, who are you?" 
 
 "My name is Dieppe, madame Cap- 
 tain Dieppe, at your service." It was 
 small wonder that a little stiffness had 
 crept into the Captain's tones. This was 
 not, so far, just the sort of interview 
 which had filled his dreams. For the first 
 time the glimmer of a smile appeared on 
 the lady's lips, the ghost of a sparkle in 
 her eyes. 
 
 49
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " What a funny name ! " she observed 
 reflectively. 
 
 " I fail to see the drollery of it." 
 
 " Oh, don't be silly and starchy. 
 You 've got us into terrible trouble." 
 
 "Tout* 
 
 " Yes ; all of us. Because now" She 
 broke off abruptly. " How do you come 
 to be here?" she asked in a rather im- 
 perious tone. 
 
 Dieppe gave a brief account of himself, 
 concluding with the hope that his pres- 
 ence did not annoy the Countess. The 
 lady shook her head and glanced at him 
 with a curious air of inquiry or examina- 
 tion. In spite of the severity, or even 
 rudeness, of her reproaches, Dieppe fell 
 more and more in love with her every 
 moment. At last he could not resist 
 a sly reference to their previous en- 
 counter. She raised innocent eyes to 
 his. 
 
 " I saw the door was open, but I did n't 
 notice anybody there," she said with irre- 
 proachable demureness. 
 50
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 The Captain looked at her for a mo- 
 ment, then he began to laugh. 
 
 " I myself saw nothing but a cat," said 
 he. 
 
 The lady began to laugh. 
 
 "You must let me atone for my stu 
 pidity," cried Dieppe, catching her hand. 
 
 " I wonder if you could ! " 
 
 "I will, or die in the attempt. Tell 
 me how ! " And the Captain kissed the 
 hand that he had captured. 
 
 " There are conditions." 
 
 "Not too hard?" 
 
 "First, you must n't breathe a word 
 to the Count of having seen me or or 
 anybody else." 
 
 " I should n't have done that, anyhow," 
 remarked Dieppe, with a sudden twinge 
 of conscience. 
 
 " Secondly, you must never try to see 
 me, except when I give you leave." 
 
 " I won't try, I will only long," said the 
 Captain. 
 
 " Thirdly, you must ask no questions." 
 
 "It is too soon to ask the only one 
 51
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 which I would n't pledge myself at your 
 bidding never to ask." 
 
 " To whom," inquired the lady, " do you 
 conceive yourself to be speaking, Captain 
 Dieppe?" But the look that accompa- 
 nied the rebuke was not very severe. 
 
 "Tell me what I must do," implored 
 the Captain. 
 
 She looked at him very kindly, partly 
 because he was a handsome fellow, partly 
 because it was her way; and she said 
 with the prettiest, simplest air, as though 
 she were making the most ordinary re- 
 quest and never thought of a refusal : 
 
 "Will you give me fifty thousand 
 francs ? " 
 
 " I would give you a million thousand 
 but I have only fifty." 
 
 " It would be your all, then ! Oh, I 
 should n't like to" 
 
 "You misunderstand me, madame. I 
 have fifty francs, not fifty thousand." 
 
 " Oh ! " said she, frowning. Then she 
 laughed a little ; then, to Dieppe's inde- 
 scribable agony, her eyes filled with tears 
 52
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 and her lips quivered. She put her hand, 
 up to her eyes ; Dieppe heard a sob. 
 
 " For God's sake" he whispered. 
 
 " Oh, I can't help it," she said, and she 
 sobbed again ; but now she did not try to 
 hide her face. She looked up in the Cap- 
 tain's, conquering her sobs, but unable to 
 restrain her tears. "It 's not my fault, 
 and it is so hard on me," she wailed. 
 Then she suddenly jumped back, crying, 
 " Oh, what were you going to do ? " and 
 regarding the Captain with reproachful 
 alarm. 
 
 " I don't know," said Dieppe in some 
 confusion, as he straightened himself 
 again. " I could n't help it ; you aroused 
 my sympathy," he explained for what 
 the explanation might be worth. 
 
 "You won't be able to help me," she 
 murmured, "unless unless " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Well, unless you 're able to help it, 
 you know." 
 
 "I will think," promised Dieppe, "of 
 my friend the Count." 
 53
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " Of the ? Oh yes, of course." 
 There never was such a face for changes 
 she was smiling now. "Yes, think of 
 your friend the Count ; that will be cap- 
 ital. Oh, but we 're wasting time ! " 
 
 " On the contrary, madame," the Cap- 
 tain assured her with overwhelming sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 "Yes, we are. And we 're not safe 
 here. Suppose the Count saw us ! " 
 
 "Why, yes, that would be" 
 
 " That would be fatal," said she deci- 
 sively, and the Captain did not feel him- 
 self in a position to contradict her. He 
 contented himself with taking her hand 
 again and pressing it softly. Certainly 
 she made a man feel very sympathetic. 
 
 " But I must see you again" 
 
 " Indeed I trust so, madame." 
 
 " On business." 
 
 " Call it what you will, so that" 
 
 " Not here. Do you know the village ? 
 
 No? Well, listen. If you go through 
 
 the village, past the inn and up the hill, 
 
 you will come to a Cross by the roadside 
 
 54
 
 The Lady in the Garden 
 
 Strike off from that across the grass, 
 again uphill. When you reach the top 
 you will find a hollow, and in it a shep- 
 herd's hut deserted. Meet me there at 
 dusk to-morrow, about six, and I will tell 
 you how to help me." 
 
 "I will be there," said the Captain. 
 
 The lady held out both her hands- 
 small, white, ungloved, and unringed. 
 The Captain's eyes rested a moment on 
 the finger that should have worn the 
 golden band which united her to his 
 friend the Count. It was not there ; she 
 had sent it back with the marriage con- 
 tract. With a sigh, strangely blended of 
 pain and pleasure, he bent and kissed 
 her hands. She drew them away quickly, 
 gave a nervous little laugh, and ran off. 
 The Captain watched her till she disap- 
 peared round the corner of the barricade, 
 and then with another deep sigh betook 
 himself to his own quarters. 
 
 The cat did not mew in the passage that 
 night. None the less Captain Dieppe's 
 slumbers were broken and disturbed. 
 55
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE INN IN THE VILLAGE 
 
 While confessing that her want of in- 
 sight into Paul de Roustache's true char- 
 acter was inconceivably stupid, the 
 Countess of Fieramondi maintained that 
 her other mistakes (that was the word 
 she chose indiscretions she rejected as 
 too severe) were extremely venial, and 
 indeed, under all the circumstances, quite 
 natural. It was true that she had prom- 
 ised to hold no communication with Paul 
 after that affair of the Baroness von 
 Englebaden's diamond necklace, in which 
 his part was certainly peculiar, though 
 hardly so damnatory as Andrea chose to 
 assume. It was true that, when one is 
 supposed to be at Mentone for one's 
 health one should not leave one's courier
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 there (in order to receive letters) and 
 reside instead with one's maid at Monte 
 Carlo ; true, further, that it is unwise to 
 gamble heavily, to lose largely, to confide 
 the misfortune to a man of Paul's equiv- 
 ocal position and reputation, to borrow 
 twenty thousand francs of him, to lose or 
 spend all, save what served to return 
 home with, and finally to acknowledge 
 the transaction and the obligation both 
 very cordially by word of mouth and 
 (much worse) in letters which were 
 well, rather effusively grateful. There 
 was nothing absolutely criminal in all 
 this, unless the broken promise must be 
 stigmatised as such ; and of that Andrea 
 had heard : he was aware that she had 
 renewed acquaintance with M. de Rous- 
 tache. The rest of the circumstances 
 were so fatal in that they made it impos- 
 sible for her to atone for this first lapse. 
 In fine, Count Andrea, not content now 
 to rely on her dishonoured honour, but 
 willing to trust to her strong religious 
 feelings, had demanded of her an oath 
 57
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 that she would hold no further communi- 
 cation of any sort, kind, or nature with 
 Paul de Roustache. The oath was a ter- 
 rible oath to be sworn on a relic which 
 had belonged to the Cardinal and was 
 most sacred in the eyes of the Fieramondi. 
 And with Paul in possession of those let- 
 ters and not in possession of his twenty 
 thousand francs, the Countess felt herself 
 hardly a free agent. For if she did not 
 communicate with Paul, to a certainty 
 Paul would communicate with Andrea. 
 If that happened she would die ; while if 
 she broke the oath she would never dare 
 to die. In this dilemma the Countess 
 could do nothing but declare first, that 
 she had met Paul accidentally (which so 
 far as the first meeting went was true 
 enough), secondly, that she would not 
 live with a man who did not trust her; 
 and, thirdly, that to ask an oath of her 
 was a cruel and wicked mockery from a 
 man whose views on the question of the 
 Temporal Power proclaimed him to be 
 little, if at all, better than an infidel 
 58
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 The Count was very icy and very polite. 
 The Countess withdrew to the right wing ; 
 receiving the Count's assurance that the 
 erection of the barricade would not be 
 disagreeable to him, she had it built 
 and sat down behind it (so to speak) 
 awaiting in sorrow, dread, and loneliness 
 the terrible moment of Paul de Rous- 
 tache's summons. And (to make one 
 more confession on her behalf) her secret 
 and real reason for ordering that nightly 
 illumination, which annoyed the Count 
 so sorely, lay in the hope of making the 
 same gentleman think, when he did ar- 
 rive, that she entertained a houseful of 
 guests, and was therefore well protected 
 by her friends. Otherwise he would try 
 to force an interview under cover of 
 night. 
 
 These briefly indicated facts of the case, 
 so appalling to the unhappy Countess, 
 were on the other hand eminently satis- 
 factory to M. Paul de Roustache. To be 
 plain, they meant money, either from the 
 Countess or from the Count. To Paul's 
 59
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 mind they seemed to mean well, say, 
 fifty thousand francs that twenty of his 
 returned, and thirty as a solatium for the 
 trifling with his affections of which he 
 proposed to maintain that the Countess 
 had been guilty. The Baroness von 
 Englebaden's diamonds had gone the way 
 and served the purposes to which family 
 diamonds seem at some time or other to 
 be predestined : and Paul was very hard 
 up. The Countess must be very fright- 
 ened, the Count was very proud. The 
 situation was certainly worth fifty thou- 
 sand francs to Paul de Roustache. Sit- 
 ting outside the inn, smoking his cigar, 
 on the morning after his encounter in the 
 garden, he thought over all this ; and he 
 was glad that he had not let his anger at 
 the Count's insolence run away with his 
 discretion ; the insolence would make his 
 revenge all the sweeter when he put his 
 hand, either directly or indirectly, into 
 the Count's pocket and exacted compen- 
 sation to the tune of fifty thousand 
 francs. 
 
 60
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 Buried in these thoughts in the course 
 of which it is interesting to observe that 
 he did not realise his own iniquity he 
 failed to notice that Monsieur Guillaume 
 had sat down beside him and, like him- 
 self, was gazing across the valley towards 
 the Castle. He started to find the old 
 fellow at his elbow ; he started still more 
 when he was addressed by his name. 
 "You know my name?" he exclaimed, 
 with more perturbation than a stranger's 
 knowledge of that fact about him should 
 excite in an honest man. 
 
 " It 's my business to know people." 
 
 " I don't know you." 
 
 " That also is my business," smiled M. 
 Guillaume. "But in this case we will 
 not be too business-like. I will waive my 
 advantage, M. de Roustache." 
 
 " You called yourself Guillaume," said 
 Paul with a suspicious glance. 
 
 " I was inviting you to intimacy. My 
 name is Guillaume Guillaume Sevier, at 
 your service." 
 
 ''Sevier? The-?" 
 61
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " Precisely. Don't be uneasy. My 
 business is not with you." He touched 
 his arm. "Your reasons for a midnight 
 walk are nothing to me ; young men take 
 these fancies, and well, the innkeeper 
 says the Countess is handsome. But I 
 am bound to admit that his description 
 of the Count by no means tallies with the 
 appearance of the gentleman who talked 
 with you last night." 
 
 "Who talked with me! You 
 were ?" 
 
 " I was there behind a bush a little 
 way down the hill." 
 
 " Upon my word, sir " 
 
 " Oh, I had my business too. But for 
 the moment listen to something that con- 
 cerns you. The Count is not yet thirty, 
 his eyes are large and dreamy, his hair 
 long, he wears no moustache, his manner 
 is melancholy, there is no air of bravado 
 about him. Do I occasion you sur- 
 prise ? " 
 
 Paul de Roustache swore heartily. 
 
 "Then," he ended, "all I can say is 
 62
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 that I should like ten minutes alone with 
 the fellow who made a fool of me last 
 night, whoever he is." 
 
 Again Guillaume as he wished to be 
 called touched his companion's arm. 
 
 " I too have a matter to discuss with 
 that gentleman," he said. Paul looked 
 surprised. "M. de Roustache," Guil- 
 laume continued with an insinuating 
 smile, " is not ignorant of recent events ; 
 he moves in the world of affairs. I think 
 we might help one another. And there 
 is no harm in being popular with the 
 with er my department, instead of be- 
 ing well, rather unpopular, eh, my dear 
 M. de Roustache?" 
 
 Paul did not contest this insinuation 
 nor show any indignation at it ; the wink 
 which accompanied it he had the self-re- 
 spect to ignore. 
 
 "What do you want from him?" he 
 asked, discerning Guillaume's point, and 
 making straight for it. 
 
 " Merely some papers he has." 
 
 "What do you want the papers for?" 
 63
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " To enable us to know whom we ought 
 to watch." 
 
 " Is the affair political or ? " 
 
 "Oh, political not in your line." 
 Paul frowned. " Forgive my little joke," 
 apologised M. Guillaume. 
 
 "And he's got them?" 
 
 " Oh, yes at least, we have very little 
 doubt of it." 
 
 " Perhaps he 's destroyed them." 
 
 Guillaume laughed softly. "Ah, my 
 dear sir," said he, " he would n't do that. 
 While he keeps them he is safe, he is im- 
 portant, he might become well, richer 
 than he is." 
 
 Paul shot a quick glance at his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " How do you mean to get the papers ? " 
 
 " I 'm instructed to buy. But if he 's 
 honest, he won't sell. Still I must have 
 them." 
 
 " Tell me his name." 
 
 "Oh, by all means Captain Dieppe." 
 
 "Ah, I 've heard of him. He was in 
 Brazil, was n't he ? " 
 64
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 " Yes, and in Bulgaria." 
 
 " Spain too, I fancy ? " 
 
 " Dear me, I was n't aware of that," said 
 Guillaurne, with some vexation. "But 
 it 's neither here nor there. Can I count 
 on your assistance ? " 
 
 " But what the devil does he pretend 
 to be the Count for ? " 
 
 " Forgive the supposition, but perhaps 
 he imagined that your business was what 
 mine is. Then he would like to throw you 
 off the scent by concealing his identity." 
 
 " By heaven, and I nearly ! " 
 
 "Nearly did what, dear M. de Rous- 
 tache?" said old Guillaume very softly. 
 " Nearly dragged in the name of Madame 
 la Comtesse, were you going to say f " 
 
 " How do you know anything ? " 
 began Paul. 
 
 "A guess on my honour a guess; 
 You affect the ladies, eh ? Oh, we 're not 
 such strangers as you think." He spoke 
 in a more imperious tone : it was almost 
 threatening. "I think you must help 
 me, Monsieur Paul," said he. 
 65
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 His familiarity, which was certainly no 
 accident, pointed more precisely the 
 vague menace of his demand. 
 
 But Paul was not too easily fright- 
 ened. 
 
 " All right," said he, " but I must get 
 something out of it, you know." 
 
 "On the day I get the papers by 
 whatever means you shall receive ten 
 thousand francs. And I will not inter- 
 fere with your business. Come, my pro- 
 posal is handsome, you must allow." 
 
 "Well, tell me what to do." 
 
 "You shall write a note, addressed to 
 the Count, telling him you must see him 
 on a matter which deeply touches his in- 
 terest and his honour." 
 
 "How much do you know?" Paul 
 broke in suspiciously. 
 
 " I knew nothing till last night ; now I 
 am beginning to know. But listen. The 
 innkeeper is my friend ; he will manage 
 that this note shall be delivered not to 
 the Count, but to Dieppe ; if any question 
 arises, he '11 say you described the gentle-
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 man beyond mistake, and in the note you 
 will refer to last night's interview. He 
 won't suspect that I have undeceived you. 
 Well then, in the note you will make a 
 rendezvous with him. He will come, 
 either for fun or because he thinks he 
 can serve his friend the Count or the 
 Countess, whichever it may be. If I 
 don't offend your susceptibilities, I should 
 say it was the Countess. Oh, I am judg- 
 ing only by general probability." 
 
 " Supposing he comes what then ? " 
 
 " Why, when he comes, I shall be there 
 visible. And you will be there invisi- 
 ble unless cause arises for you also to 
 become visible. But the details can be 
 settled later. Come, will you write the 
 letter?" 
 
 Paul de Boustache thought a moment, 
 nodded, rose, and was about to follow 
 Guillaume into the inn. But he stopped 
 again and laid a hand on his new friend's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "If your innkeeper is so intelligent 
 and so faithful" 
 
 67
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "The first comes from heaven," 
 shrugged Guillaume. " The second is, all 
 the world over, a matter of money, my 
 friend." 
 
 " Of course. Well then, he might take 
 another note." 
 
 "To the other Count?" 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 "Not yet, eh?" 
 
 Paul forced a rather wry smile. " You 
 have experience, Monsieur Guillaume," 
 he confessed. 
 
 " To the Countess, is n't it ? I see no 
 harm in that. I ask you to help in my 
 business ; I observe my promise not to 
 interfere with yours. He is intelligent; 
 we will make him faithful : he shall take 
 two notes by all means, my friend." 
 
 With the advice and assistance of Guil- 
 laume the two notes were soon written : 
 the first was couched much in the terms 
 suggested by that ingenious old schemer, 
 the second was more characteristic of 
 Paul himself and of the trade which Paul 
 had joined. "It would grieve me pro- 
 68
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 foundly," the precious missive ran, "to 
 do anything to distress you. But I have 
 suffered very seriously, and not in my 
 purse only. Unless you will act fairly 
 by me, I must act for myself. If I do 
 not receive fifty thousand francs in 
 twenty-four hours, I turn to the only 
 other quarter open to me. I am to be 
 found at the inn. There is no need of a 
 signature; you will remember your 
 Friend." 
 
 Guillaume put on his spectacles and 
 read it through twice. 
 
 " Excellent, Monsieur Paul ! " said he. 
 
 " It is easy to detect a practised hand." 
 And when Paul swore at him, he laughed 
 the more, finding much entertainment in 
 mocking the rascal whom he used. 
 
 Yet in this conduct there was a rash- 
 ness little befitting Guiilaume's age and 
 Guillaume's profession. Paul was not a 
 safe man to laugh at. If from time to 
 time, in the way of business, he was 
 obliged to throw a light brighter than he 
 would have preferred on his own char-
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 acter, he did not therefore choose to be 
 made the subject of raillery. And if it 
 was not safe to mock him, neither was it 
 very safe to talk of money to him. The 
 thought of money of thousands of 
 francs, easily convertible into pounds, 
 marks, dollars, florins, or whatever 
 chanced to be the denomination of the 
 country to which free and golden- winged 
 steps might lead him had a very inflam- 
 ing effect on M. Paul de Roustache's im- 
 agination. The Baron von Englebaden 
 had started the whole of that troublesome 
 affair by boasting of the number of thou- 
 sands of marks which had gone to the 
 making of the Baroness's necklace. And 
 now M. Guillaume rash M. Guillaume 
 talked of bribing Captain Dieppe. Brib- 
 ery means money ; if the object is impor- 
 tant it means a large amount of money : 
 and presumably the object is important 
 and the scale of expenditure correspond- 
 ingly liberal, when such a comfortable 
 little douceur as ten thousand francs is 
 readily promised as the reward of inci- 
 70
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 dental assistance. Following this train 
 of thought, Paul's mind fixed itself with 
 some persistency on two points. The 
 first was modest, reasonable, definite ; he 
 would see the colour of Guillaume's 
 money before the affair went further ; he 
 would have his ten thousand francs, or 
 at least a half of them, before he lent any 
 further aid by word or deed. But the 
 second idea was larger; it was also 
 vaguer, and, although it hardly seemed 
 less reasonable or natural to the brain 
 which conceived it, it could scarcely be 
 said to be as justifiable ; at any rate it did 
 not admit of being avowed as frankly to 
 Guillaume. himself. In fact Paul was 
 wondering how much money Guillaume 
 proposed to pay for Captain Dieppe's 
 honour (in case that article proved to be 
 in the market), and, further, where and 
 in what material form that money was. 
 Would it be gold ? Why, hardly ; when 
 it comes to thousands of anything, the 
 coins are not handy to carry about. 
 Would it be a draft ? That is a safe mode 
 71
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 of conveying large sums, but it has its 
 disadvantages in affairs where secrecy is 
 desired and ready money indispensable. 
 Would it be notes? There were risks 
 here but also conveniences. And Guil- 
 laume seemed bold as well as wary. 
 Moreover Guillaume's coat was remark- 
 ably shabby, his air very unassuming, 
 and his manner of life at the hotel fru- 
 gality itself ; such a playing of the vacuus 
 viator might be meant to deceive not only 
 the landlord of the Aquila Nera, but also 
 any other predatory persons whom Guil- 
 laume should encounter in the course of 
 his travels. Yes, some of it would be in 
 notes. Paul de Roustache bade the ser- 
 ving-maid bring him a bottle of wine, and 
 passed an hour in consuming it very 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 Guillaume returned from his conversa- 
 tion with the innkeeper just as the last 
 glass was poured out. To Paul's annoy- 
 ance he snatched it up and drained it 
 an act of familiarity that reached inso- 
 lence. 
 
 72
 
 The Inn in the Village 
 
 " To the success of our enterprise ! " 
 said he, grinning at his discomfited com- 
 panion. "All goes well. The innkeeper 
 knows the Countess's maid, and the note 
 will reach the Countess by midday; I 
 have described Dieppe to him most ac- 
 curately, and he will hang about till he 
 gets a chance of delivering the second 
 note to him, or seeing it delivered." 
 
 " And what are we to do ? " asked Paul, 
 still sour and still thoughtful. 
 
 "As regards the Countess, nothing. 
 If the money comes, good for you. If 
 not, I presume you will, at your own 
 time, open communications with the 
 Count?" 
 
 " It is possible," Paul admitted. 
 
 "Very," said M. Guillaume dryly. 
 "And as regards Dieppe our course is 
 very plain. I am at the rendezvous, 
 waiting for him, by half-past six. You 
 will also be at, or near, the rendezvous. 
 We will settle more particularly how it 
 is best to conduct matters when we see 
 the lie of the ground. No general can 
 73
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 arrange his tactics without inspecting the 
 battlefield, eh? And moreover we can't 
 tell what the enemy's dispositions or 
 disposition may turn out to be." 
 
 "And meanwhile there is nothing to 
 do?" 
 
 "Nothing? On the contrary break 
 fast, a smoke, and a nap," corrected Guil- 
 laume in a contented tone. "Then, my 
 friend, we shall be ready for anything 
 that may occur for anything in the 
 world we shall be ready." 
 
 "I wonder if you will," thought Paul 
 de Roustache, resentfully eyeing the glass 
 which M. Guillaume had emptied. 
 
 It remains to add only that, on the ad- 
 vice and information of the innkeeper, 
 the Cross on the roadside up the hill be- 
 hind the village had been suggested as 
 the rendezvous, and that seven in the 
 evening had seemed a convenient hour to 
 propose for the meeting. For Guillaume 
 had no reason to suppose that a prior 
 engagement would take the Captain to 
 the same neighbourhood at six. 
 74
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE RENDEZVOUS BY THE CROSS 
 
 Beneath the reserved and somewhat 
 melancholy front which he generally pre- 
 sented to the world, the Count of Fiera- 
 mondi was of an ardent and affectionate 
 disposition. Rather lacking, perhaps, in 
 resolution and strength of character, he 
 was the more dependent on the regard 
 and help of others, and his fortitude was 
 often unequal to the sacrifices which his 
 dignity and his pride demanded. Yet 
 the very pride which led him into posi- 
 tions that he could not endure made it 
 well-nigh impossible for him to retreat. 
 This disposition, an honourable but not 
 altogether a happy one, serves to explain 
 both the uncompromising attitude which 
 he had assumed in his dispute with his 
 75
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 wife, and the misery of heart which had 
 betrayed itself in the poem he read to 
 Captain Dieppe, with its indirect but 
 touching appeal to his friend's sympathy. 
 Now his resolve was growing weaker 
 as the state of .hostilities, his loneliness, 
 the sight of that detestable barricade, be- 
 came more and more odious to him. He 
 began to make excuses for the Countess 
 not indeed for all that she had done 
 (for her graver offences were unknown 
 to him), but for what he knew of, for the 
 broken promise and the renewal of ac- 
 quaintance with Paul de Roustache. He 
 imputed to her a picturesque penitence 
 and imagined her, on her side of the bar- 
 ricade, longing for a pardon she dared 
 not ask and a reconciliation for which 
 she could hardly venture to hope; he 
 went so far as to embody these supposed 
 feelings of hers in a graceful little poem 
 addressed to himself and entitled, "To 
 My Cruel Andrea." In fine the Count 
 was ready to go on his knees if he re- 
 ceived proper encouragement. Here his 
 76
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 pride had its turn : this encouragement 
 he must have ; he would not risk an in- 
 terview, a second rebuff, a repetition of 
 that insolence of manner with which he 
 had felt himself obliged to charge the 
 Countess or another slamming of the 
 door in his face, such as had offended him 
 so justly and so grievously in those in- 
 voluntary interviews which had caused 
 him to change his apartments. But now 
 the thought came to him as the happiest 
 of inspirations he need expose himself 
 to none of these humiliations. Fortune 
 had provided a better way. Shunning 
 direct approaches with all their dan- 
 gers, he would use an intermediary. By 
 Heaven's kindness the ideal ambassador 
 was ready to his hand a man of affairs, 
 accustomed to delicate negotiations, yet 
 (the Count added) honourable, true, faith- 
 ful, and tender-hearted. "My friend 
 Dieppe will rejoice to serve me," he said 
 to himself with more cheerfulness than 
 he had felt since first the barricade had 
 reared its hated front. He sent his ser- 
 77
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 vant to beg the favour of Dieppe's com- 
 pany. 
 
 At the moment which, to be precise, 
 was four o'clock in the afternoon no 
 invitation could have been more unwel- 
 come to Captain Dieppe. He had re- 
 ceived his note from the hands of a 
 ragged urchin as he strolled by the river 
 an hour before : its purport rather excited 
 than alarmed him; but the rendezvous 
 mentioned was so ill-chosen, from his 
 point of view, that it caused him dismay. 
 And he had in vain tried to catch sight 
 of the Countess or find means of com- 
 municating with her without arousing 
 suspicion. He had other motives too for 
 shrinking from such expressions of friend- 
 liness as he had reason to anticipate from 
 his host. But he did not expect any- 
 thing so disconcerting as the proposal 
 which the Count actually laid before him 
 when he unwillingly entered his presence. 
 
 "Go to her go to her on your be- 
 half?" he exclaimed in a consternation 
 which luckily passed for a modest dis- 
 78
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 trust of his qualifications for the task. 
 " But, my dear friend, what am I to say ? " 
 
 " Say that I love her," said the Count 
 in his low, musical tones. " Say that be- 
 neath all differences, all estrangements, 
 lies my deep, abiding, unchanging love." 
 
 Statements of this sort the Captain 
 preferred to make, when occasion arose, 
 on his own behalf. 
 
 " Say that I know I have been hard to 
 her, that I recede from my demand, that 
 I will be content with her simple word 
 that she will not, without my knowledge, 
 hold any communication with the person 
 she knows of." 
 
 The Captain now guessed or at least 
 very shrewdly suspected the position of 
 affairs. But he showed no signs of under- 
 standing. 
 
 " Tell her," pursued the Count, laying 
 his hand on Dieppe's shoulder and speak- 
 ing almost as ardently as though he were 
 addressing his wife herself, " that I never 
 suspected her of more than a little levity, 
 and that I never will or could." 
 79
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Dieppe found himself speculating how 
 much the Count's love and trust might 
 induce him to include in the phrase " a 
 little levity." 
 
 "That she should listen I will not 
 say to love-makingbut even to gal- 
 lantry, to a hint of admiration, to the 
 least attempt at flirtation, has never en- 
 tered my head about my Emilia." 
 
 The Captain, amid all his distress, 
 marked the name. 
 
 "I trust her I trust her!" cried the 
 Count, raising his hands in an obvious 
 stress of emotion, " as I trust myself, as I 
 would trust my brother, my bosom friend. 
 Yes, my dear friend, as I now trust you 
 yourself. Go to her and say, ' I am An- 
 drea's friend, his trusted friend. I am the 
 messenger of love. Give me your love' " 
 
 "What?" cried the Captain. The 
 words sounded wonderfully attractive. 
 
 " ' Give me your love to carry back to 
 him.' " 
 
 " Oh, exactly," murmured the Captain, 
 relapsing into altruistic gloom. 
 80
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 " Then all will be forgiven between us. 
 Only our love will be remembered. 
 And you, my friend, will have the hap- 
 piness of seeing us reunited, and of 
 knowing that two grateful hearts thank 
 you. I can imagine no greater joy." 
 
 " It would certainly be er intensely 
 gratifying," murmured Dieppe. 
 
 " You would remember it all your life. 
 It is not a thing a man gets the chance 
 of doing often." 
 
 "No," agreed the Captain; but he 
 thought to himself, " Deuce take it, he 
 talks as if he were doing me a favour ! " 
 
 " My friend, you look sad ; you don't 
 seem" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do yes, I am," interrupted 
 the Captain, hastily assuming, or try- 
 ing to assume, a cheerful expression. 
 " But" 
 
 "I understand I understand. You 
 doubt yourself ? " 
 
 "That 's it," assented the Captain very 
 truthfully. 
 
 "Your tact, your discretion, your 
 
 81
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 knowledge of women?" (Dieppe had 
 never in his life doubted any of these 
 things; but he let the accusation pass.) 
 " Don't be afraid. Emilia will like you. 
 I know that Emilia will like you. And 
 you will like her. I know it." 
 
 " You think so ? " No intonation could 
 have expressed greater doubt. 
 
 " I am certain of it ; and when two peo- 
 ple like one another, all goes easily." 
 
 "Well, not always," said the Captain, 
 whose position made him less optimistic. 
 
 The Count felt in his waistcoat-pocket. 
 Dieppe sat looking down towards the 
 floor with a frown on his face. He raised 
 his eyes to find the Count holding out his 
 hand towards him ; in the open palm of 
 it lay a wedding-ring. 
 
 " Take it back to her," said the Count. 
 
 "Really had n't you better do that 
 yourself ? " expostulated the Captain, who 
 felt himself hard driven by fate. 
 
 " No," said the Count, firmly. " I leave 
 it all to you. Put it on her finger and 
 say, 'This is the pledge of love of love 
 82
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 renewed of Andrea's undying love for 
 you.' " He thrust the symbol of bliss into 
 Captain Dieppe's most reluctant hand. 
 The Captain sat and looked at it in a 
 horrified fascination. 
 
 "You mil do it for met" urged the 
 Count. " You can't refuse ! Ah, my 
 friend, if my sorrow does n't move you, 
 think of hers. She is alone there in that 
 wing of the house even her cousin, who 
 was with her, was obliged to leave her 
 three days ago. There she sits, thinking 
 of her faults, poor child, in solitude ! 
 Alas, it is only too likely in tears! I 
 can't bear to think of her in tears." 
 
 The Captain quite understood that 
 feeling ; he had seen her in them. 
 
 " You will help us ? Your noble nature 
 will force you to it ! " 
 
 After a moment's hesitation, pardon- 
 able surely in weak humanity, Dieppe 
 put the Countess's wedding-ring in his 
 pocket, rose to his feet, and with a firm 
 unfaltering face held out his hand to his 
 friend and host. 
 
 83
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " I can refuse you nothing," he said, in 
 most genuine emotion. " I will do what 
 you ask. May it bring happiness to to 
 to all of us ! " He wrung the Count's 
 hand with a grip that spoke of settled 
 purpose. "You shall hear how I fare 
 very soon," he said, as he made for the 
 door. 
 
 The Count nodded hopefully, and, 
 when he was left alone, set to work on a 
 little lyric of joy, with which to welcome 
 the return of his forgiven and forgiving 
 spouse. 
 
 But it was hard on Captain Dieppe; 
 the strictest moralist may admit that 
 without endangering his principles. Say 
 the Captain had been blameworthy ; still 
 his punishment was heavy heavy and 
 most woefully prompt. His better na- 
 ture, his finer feelings, his instincts of 
 honour and loyalty, might indeed respond 
 to the demand made on them by the mis- 
 sion with which his friend entrusted him. 
 But the demand was heavy, the call 
 grievous Where he had pictured joy, 
 84
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 there remained now only renunciation; 
 he had dreamed of conquest ; there could 
 be none, save the hardest and least grate- 
 ful, the conquest of himself. Firm the 
 Captain might be, but sad he must bo. 
 He could still serve the Countess (was 
 not Paul de Roustache still dangerous ?), 
 but he could look for no reward. Small 
 wonder that the meeting, whose risks and 
 difficulty had made it seem before only 
 the sweeter, now lost all its delight, and 
 became the hardest of ordeals, the most 
 severe and grim of duties. 
 
 If this was the Captain's mood, that of 
 the lady whom he was to meet could be 
 hardly more cheerful. If conscience 
 seemed to trouble her less, and unhappy 
 love not to occupy her mind as it gov- 
 erned his, the external difficulties of her 
 position occasioned her greater distress 
 and brought her near despair. Paul de 
 Roustache's letter had been handed to her 
 by her servant, with a smile half re- 
 proachful, half mocking; she had seized 
 it, torn it open, and read it. She under- 
 85
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 stood its meaning; she saw that the 
 dreaded crisis had indeed come ; and she 
 was powerless to deal with it, or to avert 
 the catastrophe it threatened. She sat 
 before it now, very near to doing just 
 what Count Andrea hated to think of and 
 Captain Dieppe could not endure to see ; 
 and as she read and re-read the hateful 
 thing she moaned softly to herself : 
 
 " Oh, how could I be so silly ! How 
 could I put myself in such a position? 
 How could I consent to anything of the 
 sort? I don't know what '11 happen. I 
 have n't got fifty thousand francs ! Oh, 
 Emilia, how could you do it? I don't 
 know what to do ! And I 'm all alone 
 alone to face this fearful trouble ! " In- 
 deed the Count, led no doubt by the pen- 
 etrating sympathy of love, seemed to 
 have divined her feelings with a wonder- 
 ful accuracy. 
 
 She glanced up at the clock; it was 
 
 nearly five. The smile that came on her 
 
 face was sad and timid ; yet it was a smile 
 
 of hope. " Perhaps he '11 be able to help 
 
 86
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 me," she thought. "He has no money, 
 no only fifty francs, poor man ! But 
 he seems to be brave oh, yes, he 's 
 brave. And I think he 's clever. I '11 go 
 to the meeting-place and take the note. 
 He 's the only chance." She rose and 
 walked to a mirror. She certainly looked 
 a little less woe-begone now, and she ex- 
 amined her appearance with an earnest 
 criticism. The smile grew more hopeful, 
 a little more assured, as she murmured 
 to herself, "I think he '11 help me, if 
 he can, you know; because well, 
 because" For an instant she even 
 laughed. "And I rather like him too, 
 you know," she ended by confiding to the 
 mirror. These latter actions and words 
 were not in such complete harmony with 
 Count Andrea's mental picture of the 
 lady on the other side of the barricade. 
 
 Betaking herself to the room from 
 which she had first beheld Captain 
 Dieppe's face not, as the Count would 
 have supposed, as a consequence of any 
 design, but by the purest and most un- 
 87
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 expected chance she arrayed herself in 
 a short skirt and thick boots, and 
 wrapped a cloak round her, for a close, 
 misty rain was already falling, and the 
 moaning of the wind in the trees prom- 
 ised a stormy evening. Then she stole 
 out and made for the gate in the right 
 wall of the gardens. The same old ser- 
 vant who had brought the note was there 
 to let her out. 
 
 "You will be gone long, Contessa?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "No, Maria, not long. If I am asked 
 for, say I am lying down." 
 
 "Who should ask for you? The 
 Count?" 
 
 "Not very likely," she replied with a 
 laugh, in which the servant joined. 
 " But if he does, I am absolutely not to 
 be seen, Maria." And with another little 
 laugh she began to skirt the back of the 
 gardens so as to reach the main road, and 
 thus make her way by the village to the 
 Cross on the hill, and the little hut in the 
 hollow behind it. 
 
 88
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 Almost at the same moment Captain 
 Dieppe, cursing his fortune, his folly, and 
 the weather, with the collar of his coat 
 turned up, his hat crushed hard on his 
 head, and (just in case of accidents) his 
 revolver in his pocket, came out into the 
 garden and began to descend the hill 
 towards where the stepping-stones gave 
 him passage across the river. Thus he 
 also would reach the village, pass through 
 it, and mount the hill to the Cross. His 
 way was shorter and his pace quicker. 
 To be there before the lady would be 
 only polite ; it would also give him a few 
 minutes in which to arrange his thoughts 
 and settle what might be the best way to 
 open to her the new the very new- 
 things that he had to say. In the preoc- 
 cupation of these he thought little of his 
 later appointment at seven o'clock al- 
 though it was in view of this that he had 
 slipped the revolver into his pocket. 
 
 Finally, just about the same time also, 
 Guillaume was rehearsing to Paul de 
 Roustache exactly what they were to do 
 89
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 and where their respective parts began 
 and terminated. Paul was listening with 
 deep attention, with a curious smile on 
 his face, and with the inner reflection 
 that things in the end might turn out 
 quite differently from what his astute 
 companion supposed would be the case. 
 Moreover also just in case of accidents 
 both of these gentlemen, it may be 
 mentioned, had slipped revolvers into 
 their pockets. Such things may be use- 
 ful when one carries large sums of money 
 to a rendezvous ; equally so in case one 
 hopes to carry them back from it. The 
 former was M. Guillaume's condition, the 
 latter that of Paul de Roustache. On 
 the whole there seemed a possibility of 
 interesting incidents occurring by or in 
 the neighbourhood of the Cross on the 
 hillside above the village. 
 
 What recked the Count of Fieramondi 
 of that? He was busy composing his 
 lyric in honour of the return of his for- 
 given and forgiving Countess. Of what 
 was happening he had no thought. 
 90
 
 The Rendezvous by the Cross 
 
 And not less ignorant of these possible 
 incidents was a lady who this same even- 
 ing stood in the courtyard of the only 
 inn of the little town of Sasellano, where 
 the railway ended, and whence the trav- 
 eller to the Count of Fieramondi's Castle 
 must take a carriage and post-horses. 
 
 The lady demanded horses, protested, 
 raged ; most urgent business called her 
 to pursue her journey, she said. But the 
 landlord hesitated and shook his head. 
 
 "It 's good twelve miles and against 
 collar almost all the way," he urged. 
 
 " I will pay what you like," she cried. 
 
 " But see, the rain falls it has fallen 
 for two hours. The water will be down 
 from the hills, and the stream will be in 
 flood before you reach the ford. Your 
 Excellency had best sleep here to-night. 
 Indeed your Excellency must." 
 
 " I won't," said her Excellency flatly. 
 
 And at that point which may be 
 called the direct issue the dispute must 
 now be left. 
 
 91
 
 THE HUT IN THE HOLLOW 
 
 Geography, in itself a tiresome thing, 
 concerned with such soulless matters as 
 lengths, depths, heights, breadths, and the 
 like, gains interest so soon as it es- 
 tablishes a connection with the history of 
 kingdoms, and the ambitions, passions, 
 or fortunes of mankind; so that men 
 may pore over a map with more eager- 
 ness than the greatest of romances can 
 excite, or scan a countryside with a keen- 
 ness that the beauty of no picture could 
 evoke. To Captain Dieppe, a soldier, 
 even so much apology was not necessary 
 for the careful scrutiny of topographical 
 features which was his first act on reach- 
 ing the Cross on the hillside. His exam- 
 ination, hindered by increasing darkness 
 92
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 and mist, yet yielded him a general im- 
 pression correct enough. 
 
 Standing with his back to the Cross, 
 he had on his right hand the slope down 
 to the village which he had just ascended ; 
 on his left the road fell still more precip- 
 itately in zigzag curves. He could not 
 see it where it reached the valley and 
 came to the river; had he been able, he 
 would have perceived that it ran down 
 to and crossed the ford to which the land- 
 lord of the inn at Sasellano had referred. 
 But immediately facing him he could dis- 
 cern the river in its bottom, and could 
 look down over the steep grassy declivity 
 which descended to it from the point at 
 which he stood ; there was no more than 
 room for the road, and on the road 
 hardly room for a vehicle to pass an- 
 other, or itself to turn. On all three 
 sides the' ground fell, and he would have 
 seemed to stand on a watch-tower had it 
 not been that behind him, at the back of 
 the cross, the upward slope of grass 
 showed that the road did not surmount 
 93
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 the hill, but hung on to and skirted its 
 side some fifty paces from the top. Yet 
 even where he was he found himself ex- 
 posed to the full stress of the weather, 
 which had now increased to a storm of 
 wind and rain. The time of his earlier 
 appointment was not quite due ; but the 
 lady knew her way. With a shiver the 
 Captain turned and began to scramble 
 up towards the summit. The sooner he 
 found the shepherd's hut the better: if 
 it were open, he would enter; if not, 
 he could at least get some shelter under 
 the lee of it. But he trusted that the 
 Countess would keep her tryst punctu- 
 ally : she must be come and gone before 
 seven o'clock, or she would risk an en- 
 counter with her enemy, Paul de Rous- 
 tache. "However I could probably 
 smuggle her away; and at least he 
 should n't speak to her," he reflected, and 
 was somewhat comforted. 
 
 At the top of the hill the formation 
 was rather peculiar. The crown once 
 reached, the ground dipped very sud- 
 94
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 denly from all sides, forming a round de- 
 pression in shape like a basin and at the 
 lowest point some twenty feet beneath 
 the top of its enclosing walls. In this 
 circular hollow not in the centre, but 
 no more than six feet from the base of 
 the slope by which the Captain ap- 
 proachedstood the shepherd's hut. Its 
 door was open, swinging to and fro as 
 the gusts of wind rose and fell. The 
 Captain ran down and entered. There 
 was nothing inside but a rough stool, a 
 big and heavy block, something like those 
 one may see in butcher's shops (probably 
 it had served the shepherds for seat or 
 table, as need arose), and five or six large 
 trusses of dry maize-straw flung down in 
 a corner. The place was small, rude, 
 and comfortless enough, but if the hang- 
 ing door, past which the rain drove in 
 fiercely, could be closed, the four walls of 
 sawn logs would afford decent shelter 
 from the storm during the brief period 
 of the conference which the Captain 
 awaited. 
 
 95
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Dieppe looked at his watch ; he could 
 just see the figures it was ten minutes 
 to six. Mounting again to the summit, 
 he looked round. Yes, there she was, 
 making her way up the hill, painfully 
 struggling with refractory cloak and 
 skirt. A moment later she joined him 
 and gave him her hand, panting out : 
 
 " Oh, I 'm so glad you 're here ! 
 There 's the most fearful trouble." 
 
 There was, of more than one kind ; 
 none knew it better than Dieppe. 
 
 " One need not, all the same, get any 
 wetter," he remarked. "Come into the 
 hut, madame." 
 
 She paid no heed to his words, but 
 stood there looking forlornly round. But 
 the next instant the Captain enforced his 
 invitation by catching hold of her arm 
 and dragging her a pace or two down the 
 hill, while he threw himself on the ground, 
 his head just over the top of the eminence. 
 "Hush," he whispered. His keen ear 
 had caught a footstep on the road, al- 
 though darkness and mist prevented him 
 96
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 from seeing who approached. It was 
 barely six. Was Paul de Roustache an 
 hour too early f 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked in a low, anx- 
 ious voice. "Is anybody coming! Oh, 
 if it should be Andrea ! " 
 
 " It ? s not the Count, but Come down 
 into the hut, madame. You must n't be 
 seen." 
 
 Now she obeyed his request. Dieppe 
 stood in the doorway a moment, listening. 
 Then he pushed the door shut it opened 
 inwards and with some effort set the 
 wooden block against it. 
 
 " That will keep out the rain," said he, 
 "and and anything else, you know." 
 
 They were in dense darkness. The 
 Captain took a candle and a cardboard 
 box of matches from an inner pocket. 
 Striking a match after one or two efforts 
 (for matches and box were both damp), 
 he melted the end of the candle and 
 pressed it on the block till it adhered. 
 Then he lit the wick. The lady watched 
 him admiringly. 
 
 97
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "You seem ready for anything," she 
 said. But the Captain shook his head 
 sorrowfully, as he laid his match-box 
 down on a dry spot on the block. 
 
 " We have no time to lose" he began. 
 
 "No," she agreed, and opening her 
 cloak she searched for something. Find- 
 ing the object she sought, she held it out 
 to him, "I got that this afternoon. 
 Read it," she said. " It 's from the man 
 you met last night Paul de Roustache. 
 The 'Other quarter' means Andrea. 
 And that means ruin." 
 
 Captain Dieppe gently waved the letter 
 aside. 
 
 " No, you must read it," she urged. 
 
 He took it, and bending down to the 
 candle read it. " Just what it would be," 
 he said. 
 
 " I can't explain anything, you know," 
 she added hastily, with a smile half rue- 
 ful, half amused. 
 
 " To me, at least, there 's no need you 
 should." He paused a moment in hesita- 
 tion or emotion. Then he put his hand 
 98
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 in his waistcoat-pocket, drew forth a 
 small object, and held it out towards his 
 companion between his finger and thumb. 
 In the dim light she did not perceive its 
 nature. 
 
 "This," said the Captain, conscien- 
 tiously and even textually delivering the 
 message with which he was charged, " is 
 the pledge of love." 
 
 " Captain Dieppe ! " she cried, leaping 
 back and blushing vividly. "Really 
 I ! At such a time under the circ 
 And what is it ? I can't see." 
 
 "The pledge of love renewed" the 
 Captain went on in a loyal hastiness, but 
 not without the sharpest pang "of 
 Andrea's undying love for you." 
 
 " Of Andrea's ! " She stopped, pre- 
 sumably from excess of emotion. Her 
 lips were parted in a wondering smile, 
 her eyes danced merrily even while they 
 questioned. "What in the world is it?" 
 she asked again. 
 
 " Your wedding-ring," said the Captain 
 with sad and impressive solemnity, and, 
 99
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 on the pretext of snuffing the candle which 
 flickered and guttered in the draught, he 
 turned away. Thus he did not perceive 
 the uncontrollable bewilderment which 
 appeared on his companion's face. 
 
 " Wedding-ring ! " she murmured. 
 
 "He sends it back again to you," ex- 
 plained the Captain, still busy with the 
 candle. 
 
 A long-drawn " O oh ! " came from 
 her lips, its lengthened intonation seem- 
 ing to express the dawning of compre- 
 hension. "Yes, of course," she added 
 very hastily. 
 
 " He loves you," said the Captain, fac- 
 ing her and his task again. " He can't 
 bear his own sorrow, nor to think of 
 yours. He withdraws his demand ; your 
 mere word to hold no communication 
 with the person you know of, without his 
 -knowledge, contents him. I am his mes- 
 senger. Give me your love to to carry 
 back to him." 
 
 " Did he tell you to say all that ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 100
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 "Ah, madarae, should I say it other- 
 wise? Should I who " With a mighty 
 effort he checked himself, and resumed 
 in constrained tones. " My dear friend 
 the Count bade me put this ring on your 
 finger, madame, in token of your your 
 reunion with him." 
 
 Her expression now was decidedly puz- 
 zling ; certainly she was struggling with 
 some emotion, but it was not quite clear 
 with what. 
 
 " Pray do it then," she said, and, draw- 
 ing off the stout little gauntlet she wore, 
 she presented her hand to the Captain. 
 Bowing low, he took it lightly, and placed 
 the holy symbol on the appropriate finger. 
 But he could not make up his mind to 
 part from the hand without one lingering 
 look ; and he observed with some surprise 
 that the ring was considerably too large 
 for the finger. "It 's very loose," he 
 murmured, taking perhaps a sad, whimsi- 
 cal pleasure in the conceit of seeing some- 
 thing symbolical in the fact to which he 
 called attention ; in truth the ring fitted 
 101
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 so ill as to be in great danger of dropping 
 off. 
 
 "Yes er it is rather loose. I I 
 hate tight rings, don't you ? " She smiled 
 with vigour (if the expression be allow- 
 able) and added, "I 've grown thinner 
 too, I suppose." 
 
 "From grief?" asked he, and he could 
 not keep a touch of bitterness out of his 
 voice. 
 
 "Well, anxiety," she amended. "I 
 think I 'd better carry the ring in my 
 pocket. It would be a pity to lose it." 
 She took off the symbol and dropped it, 
 somewhat carelessly it must be confessed, 
 into a side-pocket of her coat. Then she 
 seated herself on the stool, and looked 
 up at the Captain. Her smile became 
 rather mocking, as she observed to Cap- 
 tain Dieppe : 
 
 "Andrea has charged you with this 
 commission since since last night, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 The words acted whether by the in- 
 tention of their utterer or not as a spark 
 102
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 to the Captain's ardour. Loyal he would 
 be to his friend and to his embassy, but 
 that she should suspect him of insincer- 
 ity, that she should not know his love, 
 was more than he could bear. 
 
 "Ah," he said, seizing her ungloved 
 hand again, " since last night indeed ! 
 Last night it was my dream my mad 
 dream Ah, don't be angry! Don't 
 draw your hand away." 
 
 The lady's conduct indicated that she 
 proposed to assent to both these requests ; 
 she smiled still and she did not withdraw 
 her hand from Dieppe's eager grasp. 
 
 " My honour is pledged," he went on, 
 "but suffer me once to kiss this hand 
 now that it wears no ring, to dream that 
 it need wear none, that you are free. 
 Ah, Countess, ah, Emilia for once let 
 me call you Emilia?" 
 
 " For once, if you like. Don't get into 
 the habit of it," she advised. 
 
 "No, I '11 only think of you by that 
 name." 
 
 '' I should n't even do as much as that. 
 103
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 It would be a I mean you might forget 
 and call me it, you know." 
 
 " Never was man so unhappy as I am," 
 he cried in a low but intense voice. 
 " But I am wrong. I must remember my 
 trust. And you you love the Count ? " 
 
 " I am very fond of Andrea," said she, 
 almost in a whisper. She seemed to suffer 
 sorely from embarrassment, for she added 
 hastily, "Don't don't press me about 
 that any more." Yet she was smiling. 
 
 The Captain knelt on one knee and 
 kissed her hand very respectfully. The 
 mockery passed out of her smile, and she 
 said in a voice that for a moment was 
 grave and tender : 
 
 " Thank you. I shall like to remember 
 that. Because I think you 're a brave 
 man and a true friend, Captain Dieppe." 
 
 " I thank God for helping me to remain 
 a gentleman," said he ; and, although his 
 manner was (according to his custom) a 
 little pronounced and theatrical, he spoke 
 with a very genuine feeling. She pressed 
 her hand on his before she drew it away. 
 104
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 " You '11 be my friend ? " he asked. 
 
 She paused before she replied, looking 
 at him intently; then she answered in 
 a low voice, speaking slowly and deliber- 
 ately : 
 
 " I will be all to you that I can and that 
 you ask me to be." 
 
 " I have your word, dear friend ? " 
 
 " You have my word. If you ask me, 
 I will redeem it." She looked at him still 
 as though she had said a great thing as 
 though a pledge had passed between them, 
 and a solemn promise from her to him. 
 
 What seemed her feeling found an an- 
 swer in Dieppe. He pressed her for no 
 more promises, he urged her to no more 
 demonstration of affection towards him. 
 But their eyes met, their glances con- 
 quered the dimness of the candle's light 
 and spoke to one another. Rain beat and 
 wind howled outside. Dieppe heard no- 
 thing but an outspoken confession that 
 left honour safe and inviolate, and yet told 
 him the sweetest thing that he could hear 
 a thing so sweet that for the instant its 
 105
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 sadness was forgotten. He had tri- 
 umphed, though he could have no re- 
 ward of victory. He was loved, though 
 he might hear no words of love. But he 
 could serve her still serve her and save 
 her from the danger and humiliation 
 which, notwithstanding Count Andrea's 
 softened mood, still threatened her. 
 That he even owed her; for he did not 
 doubt that the danger, and the solitude in 
 which, but for him, it had to be faced, 
 had done much to ripen and to quicken 
 her regard for him. As for himself, with 
 such a woman as the Countess in the case, 
 he was not prepared to own the need of 
 any external or accidental stimulus. Yet 
 beauty distressed is beauty doubled ; that 
 is true all the world over, and, no doubt, 
 it held good even for Captain Dieppe. 
 He had been loyal under the circum- 
 stances wonderfully loyal to the Count ; 
 but he felt quite justified, if he proved 
 equal to the task, in robbing his friend 
 of the privilege of forgiveness aye, and 
 of the pleasure of paying fifty thousand 
 106
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 francs. He resolved that the Count of 
 Fieramondi should never know of Paul 
 de Roustache's threats against the Count- 
 ess or of his demand for that exorbitant 
 sum of money. 
 
 With most people in moments of exal- 
 tation to resolve that a result is desirable 
 is but a preliminary to undertaking its 
 realisation. Dieppe had more than his 
 share of this temper. He bent down to- 
 wards his new and dear friend, and said 
 confidently : 
 
 " Don't distress yourself about this fel- 
 low I '11 manage the whole affair with- 
 out trouble or publicity." Yet he had no 
 notion how his words were to be made 
 good. 
 
 "You will?" she asked, with a confi- 
 dence in the Captain apparently as great 
 as his own. 
 
 " Certainly," said he, with a twirl of his 
 moustache. 
 
 " Then I 'd better leave it to you and 
 go home at once." 
 
 The inference was not quite what the 
 
 107
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Captain had desired. But he accepted 
 it with a tolerably good grace. When a 
 man has once resisted temptation there is 
 little to be gained, and something per- 
 haps to be risked, by prolonging the in- 
 terview. 
 
 " I suppose so," said he. " I '11 escort 
 you as far as the village. But what 's the 
 time?" 
 
 He took out his watch and held it down 
 to the flame of the candle ; the lady rose 
 and looked, not over his shoulder, but 
 just round his elbow. 
 
 " Ah, that 's curious," observed the Cap- 
 tain, regarding the hands of his watch. 
 " How quickly the time has gone ! " 
 
 "Very. But why is it curious?" she 
 asked. 
 
 He glanced down at her face, mischiev- 
 ously turned up to his. 
 
 " Well, it 's not curious," he admitted, 
 " but it is awkward." 
 
 " It 's only just seven." 
 
 " Precisely the hour of my appointment 
 with Paul de Roustache." 
 
 108
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 "With Paul de Roustache?" 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself. All will be 
 well." 
 
 " What appointment ? Where are you 
 to meet him ? " 
 
 " By the Cross, on the road outside 
 there." 
 
 " Heavens ! If I were to meet him ! 
 He must n't see me ! " 
 
 "Certainly not," agreed the Captain 
 with cheerful confidence. 
 
 " But how are we to avoid ? " 
 
 "Ah, you put no real trust in me," 
 murmured he in gentle reproach, and, it 
 must be added, purely for the sake of gain- 
 ing a moment's reflection. 
 
 " Could n't we walk boldly by him ? " 
 she suggested. 
 
 " He would recognise you to a certainty, 
 even if he didn't me." 
 
 "Recognise me? Oh, I don't know. 
 He does n't know me very well." 
 
 " What f " said the Captain, really a lit- 
 tle astonished this time. 
 
 "And there 's the rain and and the 
 
 109
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 night and and all that," she murmured 
 in some confusion. 
 
 "No man who has ever seen you 
 began the Captain. 
 
 "Hush! What's that?" whispered 
 she, grasping his arm nervously. The 
 Captain, recalled to the needs of the situ- 
 ation, abandoned his compliment, or ar- 
 gument, whichever it was, and listened 
 intently. 
 
 There were voices outside the hut, some 
 little way off, seeming to come from above, 
 as though the speakers were on the crest 
 of the hill. They were audible intermit- 
 tently, but connectedly enough, as though 
 their owners waited from time to time for 
 a lull in the gusty wind before they spoke. 
 
 " Hold the lantern here. Why, it 's past 
 seven ! He ought to be here by now." 
 
 " We Ve searched every inch of the 
 ground." 
 
 " That 's Paul de Eoustache," whispered 
 the Captain. 
 
 " Perhaps he 's lying down out of the 
 storm somewhere. Shall we shout ? " 
 110
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 " Oil, if you like but you risk being 
 overheard. I 'm tired of the job." 
 
 "The ground dips here. Come, we 
 must search the hollow. You must earn 
 your reward, M. de Roustache." 
 
 The lady pressed Dieppe's arm. "I 
 can't go now," she whispered. 
 
 " I 'm willing to earn it, but I 'd like to 
 see it." 
 
 " What 's that down there ? " 
 
 "You don't attend to my suggestion, 
 M. Sevier." 
 
 " Sevier ! " muttered the Captain, and a 
 smile spread over his face. 
 
 "Call me Guillaume," came sharply 
 from the voice he had first heard. 
 
 "Exactly," murmured Dieppe. "Call 
 him anything except his name. Oh, ex- 
 actly ! " 
 
 "It looks like like a building a shed 
 or something. Come, he may be in 
 there." 
 
 "Oh!" murmured the lady. "You 
 won't let them in ? n 
 
 "They sha'n't see you," Dieppe reas- 
 ill
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 sured her. "But listen, my dear friend, 
 listen." 
 
 " Who s the other ? S6vier ? 
 
 11 A gentleman who takes an interest in 
 me. But silence, pray, silence, if you if 
 you '11 be guided by me." 
 
 " Let 's go down and try the door. If 
 he 's not there, anyhow we can shelter 
 ourselves till he turns up." 
 
 There was a pause. Feet could be 
 heard climbing and slithering down the 
 slippery grass slope. 
 
 " What if you find it locked ? " 
 
 " Then I shall think some one is inside, 
 and some one who has discovered reasons 
 for not wishing to be met." 
 
 " And what will you do ? " The voices 
 were very near now, and Paul's discon- 
 tented sneer made the Captain smile ; but 
 his hand sought the pocket where his re- 
 volver lay. 
 
 " I shall break it open with your help, 
 my friend." 
 
 " I give no more help, friend SeVier 
 or Guillaume, or what you like till I see 
 
 112
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 my money. Deuce take it, the fellow 
 may be armed ! " 
 
 " I did n't engage you for a picnic, Mon- 
 sieur Paul." 
 
 " It 's the pay, not the work, that 's in 
 dispute, my friend. Come, you have the 
 money, I suppose ? Out with it ! " 
 
 " Not a sou till I have the papers ! " 
 
 The Captain nodded his head. " I was 
 right, as usual," he was thinking to him- 
 self, as he felt his breast-pocket caress- 
 ingly. 
 
 The wind rose to a gust and howled. 
 The voices became inaudible. The Cap- 
 tain bent down and whispered. 
 
 " If they force the door open," he said, 
 " or if I have to open it and go out, you 'd 
 do well to get behind that straw there till 
 you see what happens. They expect no- 
 body but me, and when they Ve seen me 
 they won't search any more." 
 
 He saw, with approval and admiration, 
 that she was calm and cool. 
 
 "Is there danger?" she asked. 
 
 "No," said he. "But one of them 
 
 113
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 wants some papers I have, and has ap- 
 parently engaged the other to assist him. 
 M. de Roustache feels equal to two jobs, 
 it seems. I wonder if he knows whom 
 he 's after, though." 
 
 " Would they take the papers by force ? " 
 Her voice was very anxious, but still not 
 terrified. 
 
 " Very likely if I won't part with them. 
 Don't be uneasy. I sha'n't forget your 
 affair." 
 
 She pressed his arm gratefully, and 
 drew back till she stood close to the 
 trusses of straw, ready to seek a hiding- 
 place in case of need. She was not much 
 too soon. A man hurled himself violently 
 against the door. The upper part gave 
 and gaped an inch or two ; the lower stood 
 firm, thanks to the block of wood that 
 barred its opening. Even as the assault 
 was delivered against the door, Dieppe 
 had blown out the candle. In darkness 
 he and she stood waiting and listening. 
 
 "Lend a hand. We shall do it to- 
 gether," cried the voice of M. Guillaume. 
 114
 
 The Hut in the Hollow 
 
 " I '11 be hanged if I move without five 
 thousand francs ! " 
 
 Dieppe put up both hands and leant 
 with all his weight against the upper part 
 of the door. He smiled at his prescience 
 when Guillaume flung himself against it 
 once more. Now there was no yielding, 
 no opening not a chink. Guillaume 
 was convinced. 
 
 " Curse you, you shall have the money," 
 they heard him say. " Come, hold the 
 lantern here." 
 
 115
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE FLOOD ON THE RIVER 
 
 That Paul de Roustache came to the 
 rendezvous, where he had agreed to meet 
 the Count, in the company and apparently 
 in the service of M. Guillaume, who was 
 not at all concerned with the Count but 
 very much interested in the ;nan who had 
 borrowed his name, afforded tolerably 
 conclusive evidence that Paul had been 
 undeceived, and that if either party had 
 been duped in regard to the meeting it 
 was Captain Dieppe. Never very ready 
 to adopt such a conclusion as this, Dieppe 
 was none the less forced to it by the pres- 
 sure of facts. Moreover he did not per- 
 ceive any safe, far less any glorious, issue 
 from the situation either for his compan- 
 ion or for himself. His honour was 
 116
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 doubly involved ; the Countess's reputa- 
 tion and the contents of his breast-pocket 
 alike were in his sole care ; and just out- 
 side the hut were two rascals, plainly 
 resolute, no less plainly unscrupulous, the 
 one threatening the lady, the other with 
 nefarious designs against the breast- 
 pocket. They had joined hands, and now 
 delivered a united attack against both of 
 the Captain's treasured trusts. " In point 
 of fact," he reflected with some chagrin, 
 "I have for this once failed to control 
 events." He brightened up almost imme- 
 diately. " Never mind," he thought, " it 
 may still be possible to take advantage of 
 them." And he waited, all on the alert 
 for his chance. His companion observed, 
 with a little vexation, with more admira- 
 tion, that he seemed to have become un- 
 conscious of her presence, or, at best, to 
 consider her only as a responsibility. 
 
 The besiegers spoke no more in tones 
 
 audible within the hut. Putting eye and 
 
 ear alternately to the crevice between 
 
 door and door-post, Dieppe saw the lan- 
 
 117
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 tern's light and heard the crackle of paper. 
 Then he just caught, or seemed to catch, 
 the one word, said in a tone of finality, 
 " Five ! " Then came more crackling. 
 Next a strange, sudden circle of light re- 
 volved before the Captain's eye ; and then 
 there was light no more. The lantern had 
 been lifted, swung round in the air, and 
 flung away. Swift to draw the only in- 
 ference, Dieppe turned his head. As he 
 did so there rang out a loud oath in Guil- 
 laume's voice ; it was followed by an odd, 
 dull thud. 
 
 " Quick, behind the trusses ! " whispered 
 Dieppe. " I 'm going out." 
 
 Without a word she obeyed him, and in 
 a moment was well hidden. For an in- 
 stant more Dieppe listened. Then he 
 hurled the wooden block away ; its weight, 
 so great before, seemed nothing to him 
 now in his excitement. The crack of a 
 shot came from outside. Pulling the door 
 violently back, Dieppe rushed out. Two 
 or three paces up the slope stood Guil. 
 laume, his back to the hut, his arm still 
 118
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 levelled at a figure which had just topped 
 the summit of the eminence, and an in- 
 stant later disappeared. Hearing Dieppe's 
 rush, Guillaume turned, crying in uncon- 
 trollable agitation, "He 's robbed me, 
 robbed me, robbed me ! " Then he sud- 
 denly put both his hands up to his brow, 
 clutching it tight as though he were in 
 great pain, and, reeling and stumbling, at 
 last fell and rolled down to the bottom of 
 the hollow. For an instant the Captain 
 hesitated. But Guillaume lay very still; 
 and Guillaume had no quarrel with the 
 Countess. His indecision soon ended, 
 Dieppe ran, as if for his life, up the slope 
 to the top of the hill. He disappeared ; 
 all was left dark and quiet at the hut; 
 Guillaume did not stir, the lady did not 
 stir ; only the door, released from its con- 
 finement, began to flap idly to and fro 
 again. 
 
 The Captain gained the summit, hardly 
 conscious that one of those sudden changes 
 of weather so common in hilly countries 
 had passed over the landscape. The mist 
 
 119
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 was gone, rain fell no more, a sharp, clean 
 breeze blew, the stars began to shine, and 
 the moon rose bright. It was as though 
 a curtain had been lifted. Dieppe's topo- 
 graphical observations stood him in good 
 stead now and saved him some moments' 
 consideration. The fugitive had choice 
 of two routes. But he would not return 
 to the village : he might have to answer 
 awkward questions about M. Guillaume, 
 his late companion, there. He would 
 make in another direction presumably 
 towards the nearest inhabited spot, where 
 he could look to get more rapid means of 
 escape than his own legs afforded. He 
 would follow the road to the left then, 
 down the zigzags that must lead to the 
 river, and to some means of crossing it. 
 But he had gained a good start and had 
 the figure of an active fellow. Dieppe 
 risked a short cut, darted past the Cross 
 and straight over the road, heading down 
 towards the river, but taking a diagonal 
 course to the left. His intent was to hit 
 the road where the road hit the river, and 
 
 120
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 thus to cut off the man he pursued. His 
 way would be shorter, but it would be 
 rougher too ; success or failure depended 
 on whether the advantage or disadvan- 
 tage proved the greater. As he ran, he 
 felt for his revolver ; but he did not take 
 it out nor did he mean to use it save in 
 the last resort. Captain Dieppe did not 
 take life or maim limb without the utmost 
 need ; though a man of war, he did not 
 suffer from blood fever. Besides he was 
 a stranger in the country, with none to 
 answer for him ; and the credentials in 
 his breast-pocket were not of the sort that 
 he desired to produce for the satisfaction 
 and information of the local custodians 
 of the peace. 
 
 The grassy slope was both uneven and 
 slippery. Moreover Dieppe had not al- 
 lowed enough for the courage of the na- 
 tives in the matter of gradients. The 
 road, in fact, belied its cautious appear- 
 ance. After three or four plausible zig- 
 zags, it turned to rash courses and ran 
 headlong down to the ford true, it had 
 121
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 excuse in the necessity of striking this 
 spot on a slope hardly less steep than 
 that down which the Captain himself was 
 painfully leaping with heels stuck deep in 
 and body thrown well back. In the re- 
 sult Paul de Roustache comfortably main- 
 tained his lead, and when he came into 
 his pursuer's view was no more than 
 twenty yards from the river, the Captain 
 being still a good fifty from the point at 
 which he had hoped to be stationed be- 
 fore Paul came up 
 
 "I 'm done," panted the Captain, re- 
 ferring both to his chances of success and 
 to his physical condition; and he saw 
 with despair that across the ford the 
 road rose as boldly and as steeply as it 
 had descended on the near side of the 
 stream. 
 
 Paul ran on and came to the edge of 
 the ford. Negotiations might be feasible 
 since conquest was out of the question : 
 Dieppe raised his voice and shouted. 
 Paul turned and looked. " I 'm a pretty 
 long shot," thought the Captain, and he 
 122
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 thought it prudent to slacken his pace till 
 he saw in what spirit his overtures were 
 met. Their reception was not encourag- 
 ing. Paul took his revolver from his 
 pocket the Captain saw the glint of the 
 barrel and waved it menacingly. Then 
 he replaced it, lifted his hat jauntily in a 
 mocking farewell, and turned to the ford 
 again. 
 
 "Shall I go on?" asked the Captain, 
 " or shall I give it up ? " The desperate 
 thought at last occurred: "Shall I get 
 as near as I can and try to wing him ? " 
 He stood still for an instant, engaged in 
 these considerations. Suddenly a sound 
 struck his ear and caught his attention. 
 It was the heavy, swishing noise of a deep 
 body of water in rapid movement. His 
 eyes flew down to the river. 
 
 " By God ! " he muttered under his 
 breath; and from the river his glance 
 darted to Paul de Roustache. The land- 
 lord of the inn at Sasellano had not 
 spoken without warrant. The stream ran 
 high in flood, and Paul de Roustache stood 
 123
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 motionless in fear and doubt on the thresh- 
 old of the ford. 
 
 " I Ve got him," remarked the Captain- 
 simply, and he began to pace leisurely 
 and warily down the hill. He was ready 
 for a shot now ready to give one too, if 
 necessary. But his luck was again in the 
 ascendant; he smiled and twirled his 
 moustache as he walked along. 
 
 If it be pardonable or even praise- 
 worthy, as some moralists assert to pity 
 the criminal, while righteously hating the 
 crime, a trifle of compassion may be 
 spared for Paul de Roustache. In fact 
 that gentleman had a few hours before 
 arrived at a resolution which must be 
 considered (for as a man hath, so shall it 
 be demanded of him, in talents and pre- 
 sumably in virtues also) distinctly com- 
 mendable. He had made up his mind to 
 molest the Countess of Fieramondi no 
 more provided he got the fifty thousand 
 francs from M. Guillaume. Up to this 
 moment fortune or, in recognition of 
 the morality of the idea, may we not 
 124
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 say heaven? had favoured his design. 
 Obliged, in view of Paul's urgently ex- 
 pressed preference for a payment on 
 account, to disburse five thousand francs, 
 Guillaume had taken from his pocket a 
 leather case of venerable age and opulent 
 appearance. Paul was no more averse 
 than Dieppe from taking a good chance. 
 The production of the portfolio was the 
 signal for a rapid series of decisive ac- 
 tions ; for was not Dieppe inside the hut, 
 and might not Dieppe share or even en- 
 gross the contents of the portfolio ? With 
 the promptness of a man who has thor- 
 oughly thought out his plans, Paul had 
 flung away the lantern, hit Guillaume on 
 the forehead with the butt of his revolver, 
 snatched the portfolio from his hand, and 
 bolted up the slope that led from the hut 
 to the summit; thence he ran down the 
 road, not enjoying leisure to examine his 
 prize, but sure that it contained more than 
 the bare ten thousand francs for which he 
 had modestly bargained. A hum ane man, 
 he reflected, would stay by Guillaume, 
 125
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 bathe his brow, and nurse him back to 
 health; for with a humane man life is 
 more than property ; and meanwhile the 
 property, with Paul as its protector, would 
 be far away. But now well, in the first 
 place, Dieppe was evidently not a humane 
 man, and in the second, here was this pes- 
 tilent river flooded to the edge of its 
 banks, and presenting the most doubtful 
 passage which had ever by the mockery 
 of language been misnamed a ford. He 
 was indeed between the devil and the deep 
 sea that devil of a Dieppe and the deep 
 sea of the ford on the road from Sasellano. 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 The days of chivalry are gone ; and the 
 days of hanging or beheading for unne- 
 cessary or unjustified homicide are with 
 us, to the great detriment of romance. 
 Paul, like the Captain, did not desire a 
 duel, although, like the Captain, he pro- 
 posed to keep his revolver handy. And, 
 after all, what was called a ford must be 
 at least comparatively shallow. Give it 
 a foot of depth in ordinary times. Let 
 126
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 it be three or four now. Still he could get 
 across. With one last look at the Cap- 
 tain, who advanced steadily, although 
 very slowly, Paul de Roustache essayed the 
 passage. The precious portfolio was in 
 an inner pocket, the hardly less precious 
 revolver he grasped in one hand; and 
 both his hands he held half outstretched 
 on either side of him. The Captain 
 watched his progress with the keenest 
 interest and a generous admiration, and 
 quickened his own pace so as to be in a 
 position to follow the daring pioneer as 
 rapidly as possible. 
 
 As far as depth was concerned, Paul's 
 calculation was not far out. He travelled 
 a third of his way and felt the ground 
 level under him. He had reached the 
 bottom of the river-bed, and the water 
 was not up to his armpits. He took out 
 the portfolio and thrust it in between his 
 neck and his collar : it gave him a con- 
 fined and choky feeling, but it was well 
 out of water ; and his right hand held the 
 revolver well out of water too. Thus 
 127
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 prepared, yet hoping that the worst was 
 over, he took another forward step. 
 Breaking into a run, the Captain was by 
 the edge of the stream the next moment, 
 whipped out his revolver, pointed it at 
 Paul, and cried, " Stop ! " For although 
 one does not mean to fire, it is often 
 useful to create the impression that one 
 does. 
 
 The action had its effect now, although 
 not exactly as Dieppe had anticipated. 
 Flurried by his double difficulty, Paul 
 stopped again and glanced over his 
 shoulder. He saw the barrel aimed at 
 him ; he could not risk disregarding the 
 command, but he might forestall his pur- 
 suer's apparent intention. He tried to 
 turn round, and effected half the revolu- 
 tion; thus he faced down-stream, and 
 had his back to the full force of the cur- 
 rent. Although no deeper than he had 
 feared, the river was stronger ; and in 
 this attitude he offered a less firm resist- 
 ance. In an instant he was swept off his 
 feet, and carried headlong down-stream, 
 128
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 dropping his revolver and struggling to 
 swim to the opposite bank. 
 
 " I can't afford to have this happen ! " 
 cried Dieppe, and, seeing how the current 
 bore his enemy away, he ran swiftly some 
 fifty yards down the bank, got ahead of 
 Paul, and plunged in, again with the idea 
 of cutting him off, but by water this time, 
 since his plan had failed on land. 
 
 Here it is likely enough that the two 
 gentlemen's difficulties and activities alike 
 would have ended. Paul went under and 
 came up again, a tangled, helpless heap of 
 legs and arms ; the Captain kept his head 
 above water for the time, but could do 
 nothing save follow the current which 
 carried him straight down-stream. But 
 by good luck the river took a sharp bend 
 a hundred yards below the ford, and 
 Dieppe perceived that by drifting he 
 would come very near to the projecting 
 curve of the bank. Paul was past noti- 
 cing this chance or trying to avail himself 
 of it. The Captain was swept down ; at 
 the right instant he made the one effort 
 129
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 for which he had husbanded his strength. 
 He gathered his legs up under him, and 
 he stood. The water was only half-way 
 up his thigh, and he stood. "Now for 
 you, my friend ! " he cried. Paul came 
 by, quite inanimate now to all appearance, 
 floating broadside to the current. Lean- 
 ing forward, the Captain caught him by 
 the leg, throwing his own body back in 
 an intense strain of exertion. He lost 
 his footing and fell. "I must let him 
 go," he thought, "or we shall both be 
 done for." But the next moment he felt 
 himself flung on the bank, and the tension 
 on his arms relaxed. The current had 
 thrown the two on the bank and pursued 
 its own race round the promontory, be- 
 reft of its playthings. Drenched, hud- 
 dled, hatless, they lay there. 
 
 "A very near thing indeed," said the 
 Captain, panting hard and regarding 
 Paul's motionless body with a grave and 
 critical air of inquiry. The next moment 
 he fell on his knees by his companion. 
 "Perhaps he carries a flask I 've none," 
 
 130
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 he thought, and began to search Paul's 
 pockets. He found what he sought and 
 proceeded to unscrew the top. 
 
 Paul gasped and grunted. " He 's all 
 right then," said the Captain. Paul's hand 
 groped its way up to his collar, and made 
 convulsive clutches. " I 'd better give 
 him a little more room," mused Dieppe, 
 and laid the flask down for a minute. 
 " Ah, this is a queer cravat ! No wonder 
 he feels like choking. A portfolio ! Ah, 
 ah ! " He took it out and pocketed it. 
 Then he forced some brandy down Paul's 
 throat, and undid his collar and his waist- 
 coat. " A pocket inside the waistcoat ! 
 Very useful, very useful and more pa- 
 pers, yes ! Take a drop, my friend, it will 
 do you good." Thus alternately minister- 
 ing to Paul's bodily comfort and rifling 
 his person of what valuables he carried, 
 Dieppe offered to the philosophic mind a 
 singular resemblance to a Finance Minis- 
 ter who takes a farthing off the duty on 
 beer and puts a penny on the income tax. 
 
 The moon was high, but not bright 
 131
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 enough to read a small and delicate hand- 
 writing by. The Captain found himself 
 in a tantalising position. He gave Paul 
 some more brandy, laid down the packet 
 of letters, and turned to the portfolio. It 
 was large and official in appearance, and 
 it had an ingenious clasp which baffled 
 Dieppe. With a sigh he cut the leather 
 top and bottom, and examined the prize. 
 
 " Ah, my dear Banque de France, even 
 in this light I can recognise your charm- 
 ing, allegorical figures," he said with a 
 smile. There were thirty notes he 
 counted them twice, for they were moist 
 and very sticky. There was another 
 paper. "This must be" He rose to 
 his feet and held the paper up towards 
 the moon. "I can't read the writing," 
 he murmured, " but I can see the figures 
 30,000. Ah, and that is ' Genoa M 
 Now to whom is it payable, I wonder ! " 
 
 "What the devil are you doing?" 
 growled Paul, sitting up with a shiver. 
 
 " My friend, I have saved your life," 
 observed the Captain, impressively. 
 
 132
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 " That 's no reason for robbing me," 
 was Paul's ungrateful but logically sound 
 reply. 
 
 The Captain stooped and picked up the 
 bundle of letters. Separating them one 
 from another, he tore them into small 
 fragments and scattered them over the 
 stream. Paul watched him, sullen but 
 without resistance. Dieppe turned to him. 
 
 "You have no possible claim against 
 the Countess," he remarked ; " no possible 
 hold on her, Monsieur de Roustache." 
 
 Paul finished the flask for himself this 
 time, shivered again, and swore pitifully. 
 He was half-crying and cowed. " Curse 
 the whole business ! " he said. " But she 
 had twenty thousand francs of my 
 money." 
 
 The Captain addressed to him a ques- 
 tion somewhat odd under the circum- 
 stances. 
 
 "On your honour as a gentleman, is 
 that true ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, it's true," said Paul, with a glare 
 of suspicion. He was not in the mood to 
 133
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 appreciate satire or banter ; but the Cap- 
 tain appeared quite grave and his manner 
 was courteous. 
 
 " It's beastly cold," Paul continued with 
 a groan. 
 
 " In a moment you shall take a run," 
 the Captain promised. And he pursued, 
 " The Countess must not be in your debt. 
 Permit me to discharge the obligation." 
 He counted twenty of the thirty notes 
 and held them out to Paul. After an- 
 other stare Paul laughed feebly. 
 
 "I am doing our friend M. Guillaume 
 no wrong," the Captain explained. " His 
 employers have in their possession fifty 
 thousand francs of mine. I avail myself 
 of this opportunity to reduce the balance 
 to their debit. As between M. Guillaume 
 and me, that is all. As between you and 
 me, sir, I act for the Countess. I pay 
 your claim at your own figures, and since 
 I discharge the claim I have made free to 
 destroy the evidence. I have thrown the 
 letters into the river. I do not wish to 
 threaten, but if you 're not out of sight 
 
 134
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 in ten minutes, I '11 throw you after 
 them.'' 
 
 "If I told you all the story "began 
 Paul with a sneer. 
 
 " I 'm not accustomed to listen to stories 
 against ladies, sir," thundered the Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 " She 's had my money for a year " 
 
 " The Countess would wish to be most 
 liberal, but she did not understand that 
 you regarded the transaction as a com- 
 mercial one." He counted five more 
 notes and handed them to Paul with an 
 air of careless liberality. 
 
 Paul broke into a grudging laugh. 
 
 " What are you going to tell old Guil- 
 laume ? " he asked. 
 
 " I 'm going to tell him that my claim 
 against his employers is reduced by the 
 amount that I have had the honour to 
 hand you, M. de Roustache. Pardon me, 
 but you seem to forget the remark I per- 
 mitted myself to make just now." And 
 the Captain pointed to the river. 
 
 Paul rose and stamped his feet on the 
 135
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 ground; he looked at his companion, 
 and his surprise burst out in the ques- 
 tion, "You really mean to let me go 
 with five and twenty thousand francs ? " 
 
 "I act as I am sure the lady whose 
 name has been unavoidably mentioned 
 would wish to act." 
 
 Paul stared again, then sniggered 
 again, and pocketed his spoil. 
 
 "Only you must understand that 
 that the mine is worked out, my friend. 
 I think your way lies there." He pointed 
 towards the road that led up from the 
 ford to Sasellano. 
 
 Still Paul lingered, seeming to wish to 
 say something that he found difficult to 
 phrase. 
 
 " I was devilish hard up," he muttered 
 at last. 
 
 "That is always a temptation," said 
 the Captain, gravely. 
 
 "A fellow does things that that look 
 queer. I say, would n't that odd five 
 thousand come in handy for yourself ? " 
 
 The Captain looked at him ; almost he 
 136
 
 The Flood on the River 
 
 refused the unexpected offer scornfully; 
 but something in Paul's manner made 
 him cry, quite suddenly, almost uncon- 
 sciously, " Why, my dear fellow, if you 
 put it that way yes ! As a loan from 
 you to me, eh ? " 
 
 " A loan? No-I-I-" 
 
 "Be at ease. Loan is the term we 
 use between gentlemen eh ? " The Cap- 
 tain tried to curl his moist, uncurlable 
 moustache. 
 
 And Paul de Roustache handed him 
 back five thousand francs. 
 
 " My dear fellow ! " murmured the 
 Captain, as he stowed the notes in 
 safety. He held out his hand; Paul de 
 Roustache shook it and turned away. 
 Dieppe stood watching him as he went, 
 making not direct for the Sasellano road, 
 but shaping a course straight up the 
 hill, walking as though he hardly knew 
 where he was going. So he passed out 
 of the Captain's sight and out of the 
 list of the Countess of Fieramondi's 
 creditors. 
 
 137
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 A little smile dwelt for a moment on 
 Dieppe's face. 
 
 "I myself am very nearly a rascal 
 sometimes," said he. 
 
 Crack ! crack ! The sound of a whip 
 rang clear; the clatter of hoofs and the 
 grind of a wheel on the skid followed. 
 A carriage dashed down the hill from 
 Sasellano. Paul de Roustache had seen 
 it, and stooped low for a moment in in- 
 stinctive fear of being seen. Captain 
 Dieppe, on the other hand, cried 
 " Bravo ! n and began to walk briskly 
 towards the ford. " How very lucky ! " 
 he reflected. " I will beg a passage ; I 
 have no fancy for another bath to- 
 night." 
 
 138
 
 CHAPTER VIH 
 
 THE CARRIAGE AT THE FORD 
 
 The direct issue between her Excel- 
 lency and the innkeeper at Sasellano 
 had ended as all such differences (save, 
 of course, on points of morality) should 
 in a compromise. The lady would not 
 resign herself to staying at Sasellano ; 
 the landlord would not engage to risk 
 passenger, carriage, and horses in the 
 flood. But he found and she accepted 
 the services of a robust, stout-built fel- 
 low who engaged with the lady to drive 
 her as far as the river and across it if 
 possible, and promised the landlord to 
 bring her and the equipage back in case 
 the crossing were too dangerous. Neither 
 party was pleased, but both consented, 
 hoping to retrieve a temporary conces- 
 139
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 sion by ultimate victory. Moreover the 
 lady paid the whole fare beforehand 
 not, the landlord precisely stipulated, to 
 be returned in any event. So off her 
 Excellency rattled in the wind and rain ; 
 and great was her triumph when the rain 
 ceased, the wind fell, and the night 
 cleared. She put her head out of the 
 rackety old landau, whose dilapidated 
 hood had formed a shelter by no means 
 water-tight, and cried, " Who was right, 
 driver?" But the driver turned his 
 black cigar between his teeth, answering, 
 "The mischief is done already. Well, 
 we shall see ! " 
 
 They covered eight miles in good time. 
 They passed Paul de Roustache, who had 
 no thought but to avoid them, and, once 
 they were passed, took to the road and 
 made off straight for Sasellano ; they 
 reached the descent and trotted gaily 
 down it ; they came within ten yards of 
 the ford, and drew up sharply. The 
 lady put her head out; the driver dis- 
 mounted and took a look at the river. 
 
 140
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 Shaking his head, he came to the win- 
 dow. 
 
 " Your Excellency can't cross to-night," 
 said he. 
 
 " I will," cried the lady, no less resolute 
 now than she had been at the inn. 
 
 The direct issue again ! And if the 
 driver were as obstinate as he looked, 
 the chances of that ultimate victory in- 
 clined to the innkeeper's side. 
 
 "The water would be inside the car- 
 riage," he urged. 
 
 " I '11 ride on the box by you," she re- 
 joined. 
 
 " It '11 be up to the horses' shoulders." 
 
 " The horses don't mind getting wet, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " They 'd be carried off their feet." 
 
 " Nonsense," said she, sharply, denying 
 the fact since she could no longer pooh- 
 pooh its significance. "Are you a cow- 
 ard ? " she exclaimed indignantly. 
 
 "I Ve got some sense in my head," 
 said he with a grin. 
 
 At this moment Captain Dieppe, wish- 
 
 141
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 ing that he were dry, that he had a hat, 
 that his moustache would curl, yet rising 
 victorious over all disadvantages by vir- 
 tue of his temperament and breeding, 
 concealing also any personal interest 
 that he had in the settlement of the ques- 
 tion, approached the carriage, bowed to 
 its occupant, and inquired, with the ut- 
 most courtesy, whether he could be of 
 any service. 
 
 "It 's of great importance to me to 
 cross," said she, returning his salutation. 
 
 " It 's impossible to cross," interposed 
 the driver. 
 
 " Nonsense ; I have crossed myself," re- 
 marked Captain Dieppe. 
 
 Both of them looked at him ; he antici- 
 pated their questions or objections. 
 
 "Crossing on foot one naturally gets 
 a little wet," said he, smiling. 
 
 " I won't let my horses cross," declared 
 the driver. The Captain eyed him with 
 a slightly threatening expression, but he 
 did not like to quarrel before a lady. 
 
 "You 're afraid for your own skin," he 
 142
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 said contemptuously. "Stay this side. 
 I '11 bring the carriage hack to you." He 
 felt in his pocket and discovered two 
 louis and two five-franc pieces. He 
 handed the former coins to the driver. 
 "I take all the responsibility to your 
 master," he ended, and opening the car- 
 riage door he invited the lady to alight. 
 
 She was dark, tall, handsome, a woman 
 of presence and of dignity. She took 
 his hand and descended with much 
 grace. 
 
 " I am greatly in your debt, sir," she 
 said. 
 
 "Ladies, madame," he replied with a 
 tentative advance of his hand toward his 
 moustache, checked in time by a remem- 
 brance of the circumstances, " confer ob- 
 ligations often, but can contract none." 
 
 " I wish everybody thought as you do," 
 said she with a deep sigh. 
 
 " Shall I mount the box?" 
 
 "If you please." He mounted after 
 her, and took the reins. Cracking the 
 whip, he urged on the horses. 
 
 143
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " Body of the saints," cried the driver, 
 stirred to emulation, "I '11 come with 
 you ! " and he leaped up on to the top of 
 a travelling-trunk that was strapped be- 
 hind the carriage. 
 
 " There is more good in human nature 
 than one is apt to think," observed the 
 Captain. 
 
 "If only one knows how to appeal to 
 it," added the lady, sighing again very 
 pathetically. 
 
 Somehow, the Captain received the idea 
 that she was in trouble. He felt drawn 
 to her, and not only by the sympathy 
 which her courage and her apparent dis- 
 tress excited ; he was conscious of some 
 appeal, something in her which seemed 
 to touch him directly and with a sort of 
 familiarity, although he had certainly 
 never seen her in his life before. He 
 was pondering on this when one of the 
 horses, frightened by the noise and rush 
 of the water, reared up, while the other 
 made a violent effort to turn itself, its 
 comrade, and the carriage round, and 
 
 144
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 head back again for Sasellano. The Cap- 
 tain sprang up, shouted, plied the whip ; 
 the driver stood on the trunk and yelled 
 yet more vigorously; her Excellency 
 clutched the rail with her hand. And 
 in they went. 
 
 " The peculiarity of this stream," began 
 the Captain, "lies not so much in its 
 depth as in" 
 
 "The strength of the current," inter- 
 posed his companion, nodding. 
 
 " You know it ? " he cried. 
 
 "Very well," she answered, and she 
 might have said more had not the horses 
 at this moment chosen to follow the eas- 
 iest route, and headed directly down- 
 stream. A shriek from the driver 
 awoke Dieppe to the peril of the posi- 
 tion. He plied his whip again, and did 
 his best to turn the animals' heads to- 
 wards the opposite bank. The driver 
 showed his opinion of the situation by 
 climbing on to the top of the landau. 
 
 This step was perhaps a natural, but 
 it was not a wise one. The roof was not 
 145
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 adapted to carrying heavy weights. It 
 gave way on one side, and in an instant 
 the driver rolled over to the right and 
 fell with a mighty splash into the water 
 just above the carriage. At the same 
 moment Dieppe contrived to turn the 
 horses in the direction he aimed at, and 
 the carriage moved a few paces. 
 
 " Ah, we move ! " he exclaimed tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
 " The driver 's fallen off ! " cried the 
 lady in alarm. 
 
 "I thought we seemed lighter, some- 
 how," said Dieppe, paying no heed to the 
 driver's terrified shouts, but still urging on 
 his horses. He showed at this moment 
 something of a soldier's recognition that, 
 if necessary, life must be sacrificed for vic- 
 tory : he had taken the same view when 
 he left M. Guillaume in order to pursue 
 Paul de Roustache. 
 
 The driver, finding cries useless, saw 
 
 that he must shift for himself. The 
 
 wheel helped him to rise to his feet ; he 
 
 found he could stand. In a quick turn 
 
 146
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 of feeling, he called, " Courage ! " Dieppe 
 looked over at him with a rather con- 
 temptuous smile. 
 
 " What, have you found some down at 
 the bottom of the river? Like truth in 
 the well?" he asked. "Catch hold of 
 one of the horses, then ! " He turned to 
 the lady. " You drive, madame ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then do me the favour." He gave her 
 the reins, with a gesture of apology 
 stepped in front of her, and lowered 
 himself into the water on the left-hand 
 side. "Now, my friend, one of us at 
 each of their heads, and we do it ! The 
 whip, madame with all your might, the 
 whip ! " 
 
 The horses made a bound ; the driver 
 dashed forward and caught one by the 
 bridle; the lady lashed. On his side 
 Dieppe, clinging to a trace, made his 
 way forward. Both he and the driver 
 now shouted furiously, their voices echo- 
 ing in the hills that rose from the river 
 on either side, and rising at last in a 
 
 147
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 shout of triumph as the wheels turned, 
 the horses gained firm footing, and with 
 a last spring forward landed the carriage 
 in safety. 
 
 The driver swore softly and crossed 
 himself devoutly before he fell to a rue- 
 ful study of the roof of the landau. 
 
 " Monsieur, I am eternally indebted to 
 you," cried the lady to Dieppe. 
 
 "It is a reciprocal service, madame," 
 said he. " To tell the truth, I also had 
 special reasons for wishing to gain this 
 side of the river." 
 
 She appeared a trifle embarrassed, but 
 civility, or rather gratitude, impelled her 
 to the suggestion. "You are travelling 
 my way ? " she asked. 
 
 " A thousand thanks, but I have some 
 business to transact first." 
 
 She seemed relieved, but she was puz- 
 zled, too. "Business? Here?" she 
 murmured. 
 
 Dieppe nodded. " It will not keep me 
 long," he added gravely. 
 
 The driver had succeeded in restoring 
 148
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 the top of the landau to a precarious 
 stability. Dieppe handed the lady down 
 from the box-seat and into the interior. 
 The driver mounted his perch ; the lady 
 leant out of the window to take fare- 
 well of her ally. 
 
 "Every hour was of value to me," she 
 said, with a plain touch of emotion in 
 her voice, "and but for you I should 
 have been taken back to Sasellano. We 
 shall meet again, I hope." 
 
 " I shall live in the hope," said he, with 
 a somewhat excessive gallantry a trick 
 of which he could not cure himself. 
 
 The driver whipped up he did not in- 
 tend that either he or his horses, having 
 escaped drowning, should die of cold. 
 The equipage lumbered up the hill, its 
 inmate still leaning out and waving her 
 hand. Dieppe watched until the party 
 reached the zigzags and was hidden from 
 view, though he still heard the crack of 
 the whip. 
 
 " Very interesting, very interesting ! " 
 he murmured to himself. " But now to 
 149
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 business ! Now for friend Guillauine 
 and the Countess ! " His face fell as he 
 spoke. With the disappearance of ex- 
 citement, and the cessation of exertion, 
 he realised again the great sorrow that 
 faced him and admitted of no evasion. 
 He sighed deeply and sought his cigar- 
 ette-case. Vain hope of comfort! His 
 cigarettes were no more than a distaste- 
 ful pulp. He felt forlorn, very cold, 
 very hungry, also; for it was now be- 
 tween nine and ten o'clock. His heart 
 was heavy as he prepared to mount the 
 hill and finish his evening's work. He 
 must see Guillaume; he must see the 
 Countess; and then 
 
 " Ah ! " he cried, and stooped suddenly 
 to the ground. A bright object lay plain 
 and conspicuous on the road which had 
 grown white again as it dried in the 
 sharp wind. It was an oval locket of 
 gold, dropped there, a few yards from 
 the ford. It lay open no doubt the jar 
 of the fall accounted for that face 
 downwards. The Captain picked it up 
 150
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 and examined it. He said nothing; his 
 usual habit of soliloquy failed him for 
 the moment ; he looked at it, then round 
 at the landscape. For the moonlight 
 showed him a picture in the locket, and 
 enabled him to make out a written in- 
 scription under it. 
 
 " What ? " breathed he at last. " Oh, I 
 can't believe it!" He looked again. 
 " Oh, if that 's the lie of the land, my 
 friend ! " He smiled ; then, in an appa- 
 rent revulsion of feeling, he frowned 
 angrily, and even shook his fist down- 
 stream, perhaps intending the gesture 
 for some one in the village. Lastly, he 
 shook his head sadly, and set off up the 
 hill in the wake of the now vanished car- 
 riage ; as he went, he whistled in a soft 
 and meditative way. But before he 
 started, he had assured himself that he 
 in his turn had not dropped anything, 
 and that M. Guillaume's partially de- 
 pleted portfolio was still safe in his 
 pocket, side by side with his own pre- 
 cious papers. And he deposited the 
 
 151
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 locket he had found with these other 
 valued possessions. 
 
 A few minutes' walking brought him to 
 the Cross. The exercise had warmed 
 him, the threatened stiffness of cold had 
 passed; he ran lightly up the hill and 
 down into the basin. There was no sign 
 of M. Guillaume. The Captain, rather 
 vexed, for he had business with that gen- 
 tleman, an explanation of a matter which 
 touched his own honour to make, and 
 an account which intimately concerned 
 M. Guillaume to adjust, entered the hut. 
 In an instant his hand was grasped in 
 an appealing grip, and the voice he loved 
 best in the world (there was no blinking 
 the fact, whatever might be thought of 
 the propriety), cried, " Ah, you 're safe?" 
 
 " How touching that is ! " thought the 
 Captain. " She has a hundred causes for 
 anxiety, but her first question is, ' You're 
 safe?'" This was she whom he re- 
 nounced, and this was she whom the 
 Count of Fieramondi deceived. What 
 were her trifling indiscretions beside her 
 152
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 husband's infamy the infamy betrayed 
 and proved by the picture and inscrip- 
 tion in the locket ? 
 
 "I am safe, and you are safe," said 
 he, returning the pressure of her hand. 
 " And where is our friend outside ? " 
 
 "I don't know I lay hidden till I 
 heard him go. I don't know where he 
 went. What do you mean by saying 
 I 'm safe ? " 
 
 " I have got rid of Paul de Roustache. 
 He '11 trouble you no more." 
 
 "What?" Wonder and admiration 
 sparkled in her eyes. Because he was 
 enabled to see them, Dieppe was grate- 
 ful to her for having replaced and re- 
 lighted his candle. "Yes, I was afraid 
 in the dark," she said, noticing his glance 
 at it. " But it 's almost burnt out. 
 We must be quick. Is the trouble with 
 M. de Roustache really over ? " 
 
 " Absolutely." 
 
 "And we owe it to you? But you- 
 why, you 're wet ! " 
 
 " It 's not surprising," said he, smiling. 
 153
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " There 's a flood in the river, and I have 
 crossed it twice." 
 
 "What did you cross the river for?" 
 
 "I had to escort M. de Roustache 
 across, and he 's a bad swimmer. He 
 jumped in, and" 
 
 "You saved his life?" 
 
 " Don't reproach me, my friend. It is 
 an instinct; and er he carried the 
 pocket-book of our friend outside; and 
 the pocket-book had my money in it, 
 you know." 
 
 "Your money? I thought you had 
 only fifty francs?" 
 
 " The money due to me, I should say. 
 Fifty thousand francs." The Captain 
 unconsciously assumed an air of some 
 importance as he mentioned this sum. 
 " So I was bound to pursue friend Paul," 
 he ended. 
 
 " It was dangerous ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, no," he murmured. " Coming 
 back, though, was rather difficult," he con- 
 tinned. "The carriage was very heavy, 
 and we had some ado to" 
 154
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 " The carriage ! What carriage ? " she 
 cried with eagerness. 
 
 " Oddly enough, I found a lady travel- 
 ling from Sasellano, I understood ; and 
 I had the privilege of aiding her to cross 
 the ford." Dieppe spoke with a calcu- 
 lated lightness. 
 
 "A lady a lady from Sasellano? 
 What sort of a lady? What was she 
 like?" 
 
 The Captain was watching her closely. 
 Her agitation was unmistakable. Did 
 she know, did she suspect, anything ? 
 
 "She was tall, dark, and dignified in 
 appearance. She spoke slowly, with a 
 .slight drawl" 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " 
 
 "And she was very eager to pursue 
 her journey. She must have come by 
 here. Did n't you hear the wheels ? " 
 
 "No I I was n't thinking." But 
 she was thinking now. The next instant 
 she cried, "I must go, I must go at 
 once." 
 
 " But where ? " 
 
 155
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " Why, back home, of course ! Where 
 else should I go? Oh, I may be too 
 late ! " 
 
 Unquestionably she knew something- 
 how much the Captain could not tell. 
 His feelings may be imagined. His voice 
 was low, and very compassionate as he 
 asked : 
 
 " You '11 go home ? When she 's there ? 
 At least, if I conclude rightly" 
 
 "Yes, I must go. I must get there 
 before she sees Andrea; otherwise, all 
 will be lost." 
 
 For the instant her agitation seemed 
 to make her forget Dieppe's presence, or 
 what he might think of her manner. 
 Now she recovered herself. "I mean I 
 mean I want to speak to her. I must 
 tell her-" 
 
 " Tell her nothing. Confront her with 
 that." And the Captain produced the gold 
 locket with an air of much solemnity. 
 
 His action did not miss its effect. She 
 gazed at the locket in apparent bewilder- 
 ment. 
 
 156
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 " No, don't open it," he added hastily. 
 
 " Where did you get it ? " 
 
 " She dropped it by the river. It was 
 open when I picked it up." 
 
 " Why, it 's the locket How does it 
 open?" She was busy looking for the 
 spring. 
 
 "I implore you not to open it!" he 
 cried, catching her hand and restraining 
 her. 
 
 "Why?" she asked, pausing and look- 
 ing up at him. 
 
 The question and the look that accom- 
 panied it proved too great a strain for 
 Dieppe's self-control. Now he caught 
 both her hands in his as he said : 
 
 " Because I can't bear that you should 
 suffer. Because I love you too much." 
 
 Without a doubt it was delight that lit 
 up her eyes now, but she whispered re- 
 provingly, " Oh, you ! You the ambas- 
 sador." 
 
 "I had n't seen that locket when I 
 became his ambassador." 
 
 "Let go my hands." 
 157
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "Indeed I can't/' urged the Captain. 
 But she drew them away with a sharp 
 motion that he could not resist, and 
 before he could say or do more to stop 
 her she had opened the locket. 
 
 "As I thought," she cried, hurriedly 
 reclasping it and turning to him in eager 
 excitement ; " I must go, indeed I must 
 go at once ! " 
 
 "Alone?" asked Captain Dieppe, with 
 a simple, but effective eloquence. 
 
 At least it appeared very effective. 
 She came nearer to him and, of her own 
 accord now, laid her hands in his. Shy- 
 ness and pleasure struggled in her eyes 
 as she fixed them on his face. 
 
 " I shall see you again," she murmured. 
 
 " How ? " he asked. 
 
 " Why, you 're coming back back to 
 the Castle?" she cried eagerly. The 
 doubt of his returning thither seemed to 
 fill her with dismay. 
 
 The Captain's scruples gave way. 
 Perhaps it was the locket that under- 
 mined them, perhaps that look in her 
 158
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 eyes, and the touch of her hands as they 
 rested in his. 
 
 "I will do anything you bid me," he 
 whispered. 
 
 " Then come once again." She paused. 
 " Because I I don't want to say good- 
 bye just now." 
 
 "If I come, will it be to say good- 
 bye?" 
 
 " That shall be as you wish," she said. 
 
 It seemed to Dieppe that no confession 
 could have been more ample, yet none 
 more delicately reserved in the manner 
 of its utterance. His answer was to 
 clasp her in his arms and kiss her lips. 
 But in an instant he released her, in 
 obedience to the faint, yet sufficient, 
 protest of her hands pressing him away. 
 
 "Come in an hour," she whispered, 
 and, turning, left him and passed from 
 the hut. 
 
 For a moment or two he stood where 
 
 he was, devoured by many conflicting 
 
 feelings. But his love, once obedient to 
 
 the dictates of friendship and the un- 
 
 159
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 yielding limits of honour, would not be 
 denied now. How had the Count of 
 Fieramondi now any right to invoke his 
 honour, or to appeal to his friendship? 
 Gladly, as a man will, the Captain seized 
 on another's fault to excuse his own. 
 
 "I will go againin an hour and I 
 will not say good-bye," he declared, as he 
 flung himself down on one of the trusses 
 of straw and prepared to wait till it 
 should be time for him to set out. 
 
 The evening had been so full of sur- 
 prises, so prolific of turns of fortune 
 good and evil, so bountiful of emotions 
 and changeful feelings, that he had little 
 store of surprise left wherewith to meet 
 any new revolution of the wheel. Never- 
 theless it was with something of a start 
 that he raised his head again from the 
 straw on which he had for a moment re- 
 clined, and listened intently. There had 
 been a rustle in the straw ; he turned his 
 head sharply to the left. But he had 
 misjudged the position whence the noise 
 came. From behind the truss of straw to 
 160
 
 The Carriage at the Ford 
 
 his right there rose the figure of a man. 
 Monsieur Guillaume stood beside him, his 
 head tied round with a handkerchief, but 
 his revolver in his hand. The Captain's 
 hand flew towards his breast-pocket. 
 
 " You '11 particularly oblige me by not 
 moving," said Monsieur Guillaume, with 
 a smile. 
 
 Of a certainty a man should not min- 
 gle love and business, especially, perhaps, 
 when neither the love nor the business 
 can be said properly to belong to him. 
 
 161
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE STRAW IN THE CORNER 
 
 There was nothing odd in M. Guil- 
 laume's presence, however little the lady 
 or the Captain had suspected it. The 
 surprise he gave was a reprisal for that 
 which he had suffered when, after the 
 Captain's exit, he had recovered his full 
 faculties and heard a furtive movement 
 within the hut. It was the inspiration 
 and the work of a moment to raise him- 
 self with an exaggerated effort and a pur- 
 posed noise, and to take his departure 
 with a tread heavy enough to force itself 
 on the ears of the unknown person in- 
 side. But he did not go far. To what 
 purpose should he, since it was vain to 
 hope to overtake the Captain or Paul de 
 Roustache ? Some one was left behind ; 
 
 162
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 then, successful or unsuccessful, the Cap- 
 tain would return unless Paul murdered 
 him, a catastrophe which would be irre- 
 mediable, but was exceedingly unlikely. 
 Guillaume mounted to the top of the 
 eminence and flung himself down in the 
 grass ; thence he crawled round the sum- 
 mit, descended again with a stealthiness in 
 striking contrast to his obtrusive ascent, 
 and lay down in the dark shadow of the 
 hut itself. In about twenty minutes his 
 patience was rewarded: the lady came 
 out, she had forgotten to mention this 
 little excursion to the Captain, mounted 
 the rise, looked round, and walked down 
 towards the Cross. Presumably she was 
 looking for a sight of Dieppe. In a few 
 minutes she returned. Guillaume was 
 no longer lying by the hut, but was safe 
 inside it under the straw. She found 
 Dieppe's matches, relighted the candle, 
 and sat down in the doorway with her 
 back to the straw. Thus each had kept 
 a silent vigil until the Captain returned 
 to the rendezvous. Guillaume felt that 
 163
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 he had turned a rather unpromising sit- 
 uation to very good account. He was 
 greatly and naturally angered with Paul 
 de Roustache: the loss of his portfolio 
 was grievous. But the Captain was his 
 real quarry; the Captain's papers would 
 more than console him for his money; 
 and he had a very pretty plan for dealing 
 with the Captain. 
 
 Nothing was to be gained by sitting 
 upright. In a moment Dieppe realised 
 this, and sank back on his truss of straw. 
 He glanced at Guillaume's menacing 
 weapon, and thence at Guillaume him- 
 self. " Your play, my friend," he seemed 
 to say. He knew the game too well not 
 to recognise and accept its chances. But 
 Guillaume was silent. 
 
 " The hurt to your head is not serious 
 or painful, I hope?" Dieppe inquired 
 politely. Still Guillaume maintained a 
 grim and ominous silence. The Captain 
 tried again. "I trust, my dear friend," 
 said he persuasively, " that your weapon 
 is intended for strictly defensive pur- 
 164
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 poses?" The candle had burnt almost 
 down to the block on which it rested 
 (the fact did not escape Dieppe), but it 
 served to show Guillaume's acid smile. 
 "What quarrel have we?" pursued the 
 Captain, in a conciliatory tone. "I Ve 
 actually been engaged on your business, 
 and got confoundedly wet over it too." 
 
 " You 've been across the river then ? " 
 asked Guillaume, breaking his silence. 
 
 "It 's not my fault the river was in 
 my way," Dieppe answered a little impa- 
 tiently. " As for you, why do you listen 
 to my conversation ? " 
 
 "With the Countess of Fieramondi? 
 Ah, you soldiers ! You were a little indis- 
 creet there, my good Captain. But that 's 
 not my business." 
 
 "Your remark is very just," agreed 
 Dieppe. "I '11 give that candle just a 
 quarter of an hour," he was thinking. 
 
 "Except so far as I may be able to 
 turn it to my purposes. Come, we know 
 one another, Captain Dieppe." 
 
 " We have certainly met in the course 
 
 165
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 of business," the Captain conceded with 
 a touch of hauteur, as he shifted the 
 truss a little further under his right 
 shoulder. 
 
 "I want something that you have," 
 said Guillaume, fixing his eyes on his 
 companion. Dieppe's were on the candle. 
 "Listen to me," commanded Guillaume, 
 imperiously. 
 
 "I have really no alternative," shrugged 
 the Captain. " But don't make impossi- 
 ble propositions. And be brief. It 's 
 late ; I 'm hungry, cold, and wet." 
 
 Guillaume smiled contemptuously at 
 this useless bravado ; for such it seemed 
 to him. It did not occur to his mind 
 that Dieppe had anything to gain or 
 even a bare chance of gaining anything 
 by protracting the conversation. But 
 in fact the Captain was making observa- 
 tionsfirst of the candle, secondly of the 
 number and position of the trusses of 
 straw. 
 
 " Are you in a position to call any prop- 
 osition impossible ? " Guillaume asked. 
 166
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 " It 's quite true that I can't make use 
 of my revolver," agreed the Captain. 
 " But on the other hand you don't, I 
 presume, intend to murder me ? Would 
 n't that be exceeding your instructions ? " 
 
 "I don't know as to that I might be 
 forgiven. But of course I entertain no 
 such desire. Captain, I Ve an idea that 
 you 're in possession of my portfolio." 
 
 " What puts that into your head f " 
 inquired the Captain in a rather satirical 
 tone. 
 
 " From what you said to the Countess 
 
 J n 
 
 "Ah, I find it so hard to realise that 
 you actually committed that breach of 
 etiquette," murmured Dieppe, reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 "And that perhaps I say only per- 
 hapsyou have made free with the con- 
 tents. For it seems you 've got rid of 
 Paul de Roustache. Well, I will not 
 complain" 
 
 " Ah ? " said the Captain with a move- 
 ment of interest. 
 
 167
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " But if I lose my money, I must have 
 my money's worth." 
 
 "That 's certainly what one prefers 
 when it 's possible," smiled the Captain, 
 indulgently. 
 
 " To put it briefly" 
 
 "As briefly as you can, pray," cried 
 Dieppe; but the candle burnt steadily 
 still, and brevity was the last thing that 
 he desired. 
 
 "Give me your papers and you may 
 keep the portfolio." 
 
 The Captain's indignation at this pro- 
 posal was extreme ; indeed, it led him to 
 sit upright again, to fix his eyes on the 
 candle, and to talk right on end for hard 
 on five minutes in fact as long as he 
 could find words on the subject of his 
 honour as a gentleman, as a soldier, as a 
 Frenchman, as a friend, as a confidential 
 agent, and as a loyal servant. Guillaume 
 did not interrupt him, but listened with 
 a smile of genuine amusement. 
 
 " Excellent ! " he observed, as the Cap- 
 tain sank back exhausted. " A most ex- 
 168
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 cellent preamble for your explanation of 
 the loss, my dear Captain. And you will 
 add at the end that, seeing all this, it 
 cannot be doubted that you surrendered 
 these papers only under absolute compul- 
 sion, and not the least in the world for 
 reasons connected with my portfolio." 
 
 "My words were meant to appeal to 
 your own better feelings," sighed the 
 Captain in a tone of despairing reproach. 
 
 " You betray the Count of Fieramondi, 
 your friend; why not betray your em- 
 ployers also ? " 
 
 For a moment there was a look in the 
 Captain's eye which seemed to indicate 
 annoyance, but the next instant he smiled. 
 
 "As if there were any parallel ! " said 
 he. " Matters of love are absolutely dif- 
 ferent, my good friend." Then he went 
 on very carelessly, "The candle 's low. 
 Why don't you light your lantern ? " 
 
 " That rascal Paul threw it away, and 
 
 I had n't time to get it." No expression, 
 
 save a mild concern, appeared on Captain 
 
 Dieppe's face, although he had discovered 
 
 169
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 a fact of peculiar interest to him. " The 
 candle will last as long as we shall want 
 it," pursued Guillaume. 
 
 " Very probably," agreed the Captain, 
 with a languid yawn ; again he shifted 
 his straw till the bulk of it was under his 
 right shoulder, and he lay on an incline 
 that sloped down to the left. "And 
 you '11 kill me and take my papers, eh ? " 
 he inquired, turning and looking up at 
 Guillaume. He could barely see his 
 enemy's face now, for the candle gut- 
 tered and sputtered, while the moon, 
 high in heaven, threw light on the dip 
 of the hill outside, but did little or 
 nothing to relieve the darkness within 
 the hut. 
 
 " No, I shall not murder you. You '11 
 give them to me, I 'm sure." 
 
 " And if I refuse, dear M. Guillaume ? " 
 
 "I shall invite you to accompany me 
 to the village or, more strictly, to pre- 
 cede me." 
 
 " What should we do together in the 
 village ? " cried Dieppe. 
 
 170
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 " I shall beg of you to walk a few paces 
 in front of me, just a few, to go at just 
 the pace I go, and to remember that I 
 carry a revolver in my hand." 
 
 " My memory would be excellent on 
 such a point," the Captain assured him. 
 " But, again, why to the village?" 
 
 " We should go together to the office 
 of the police. I am on good terms with 
 the police." 
 
 " Doubtless. But what have they to 
 do with me ? Come, come, my matter is 
 purely political; they would n't mix 
 themselves up in it." 
 
 " I should charge you with the unlaw- 
 ful possession of my portfolio. You 
 would admit it, or you would deny it. 
 In either case your person would be 
 searched, the papers would be found, 
 and I, who am on such friendly terms 
 with the police, should certainly enjoy 
 an excellent opportunity of inspecting 
 them. You perceive, my dear Captain, 
 that I have thought it out." 
 
 " It 's neat, certainly," agreed the Cap- 
 171
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 tain, who was not a little dismayed at 
 this plan of Guillaume's. " But I should 
 not submit to the search." 
 
 "Ah! Now how would you prevent 
 it?" 
 
 " I should send for my friend the 
 Count. He has influence; he would 
 answer for me." 
 
 " What, when he hears my account of 
 your interview with his wife?" Old 
 Guillaume played this card with a smile 
 of triumph. " I told you that the little 
 affair might perhaps be turned to my 
 purposes," he reminded Dieppe, mali- 
 ciously. 
 
 The Captain reflected, taking as long 
 as he decently could over the task. In- 
 deed he was in trouble. Guillaume's 
 scheme was sagacious, Guillaume's posi- 
 tion very strong. And at last Guillaume 
 grew impatient. But still the persistent 
 candle burnt. 
 
 " I give you one minute to make up 
 your mind," said Guillaume, dropping his 
 tone of sarcastic pleasantry, and speak- 
 172
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 ing in a hard, sharp voice. " After that, 
 either you give me the papers, or you get 
 up and march before me to the village." 
 
 " If I refuse to do either ?" 
 
 " You can't refuse," said Guillaume. 
 
 " You mean ? " 
 
 "I should order you to hold your 
 hands behind your back while I took the 
 papers. If you moved" 
 
 " Thank you. I see," said the Captain, 
 with a nod of understanding. "Awk- 
 ward for you, though, if it came to 
 that." 
 
 " Oh, I think not very, in view of your 
 dealings with my portfolio." 
 
 "I 'm in a devil of a hole," admitted 
 the Captain, candidly. 
 
 " Time 's up," announced M. Guillaume, 
 slowly raising the barrel of his revolver, 
 and taking aim at the Captain. For the 
 candle still burnt, although dimly and 
 fitfully, and still there was light to guide 
 the bullet on its way. 
 
 " It 's all up ! " said the Captain. " But, 
 deuce take it, it 's hardly the way to treat 
 173
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 a gentleman ! " Even as he spoke the 
 light of the candle towered for a second 
 in a last shoot of flame, and then went 
 out. 
 
 At the same moment the Captain rolled 
 down the incline of straw on which he 
 had been resting, rose on his knees an 
 instant, seized the truss and flung it at 
 Guillaume, rolled under the next truss, 
 seized that in like manner and propelled 
 it against the enemy, and darted again 
 to shelter. " Stop, or I fire," cried Guil- 
 laume; he was as good as his word the 
 next minute, but the third truss caught 
 him just as he aimed, and his bullet flew 
 against and was buried in the planking 
 of the roof. By now, the Captain was 
 escaping from under the fourth truss, 
 and making for the fifth. Guillaume, 
 dimly seeing the fourth truss not thrown, 
 but left in its place, discharged another 
 shot at it. The fifth truss caught him 
 in the side and drove him against the 
 wooden block. He turned swiftly in 
 the direction whence the missile came, 
 174
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 and fired again. He was half dazed, his 
 eyes and ears seemed full of the dust of 
 the straw. He fired once again at ran- 
 dom, swearing savagely ; and before he 
 could recover aim his arm was seized from 
 behind, his neck was caught in a vigorous 
 garotte, and he fell on the floor of the hut 
 with Captain Dieppe on the top of him 
 Dieppe, dusty, dirty, panting, bleeding 
 freely from a bullet graze on the top of 
 the left ear, and with one leg of his trou- 
 sers slit from ankle to knee by a rusty 
 nail, that had also ploughed a nasty fur- 
 row up his leg. But now he seized Guil- 
 laume's revolver, and dragged the old 
 fellow out of the hut. Then he sat down 
 on his chest, pinning his arms together 
 on the ground above his head. 
 
 " You enjoyed playing your mouse just 
 a trifle too long, old cat," said he. 
 
 Guillaume lay very still, exhausted, 
 beaten, and defenceless. Dieppe released 
 his hands, and, rising, stood looking down 
 at him. A smile came on his face. 
 
 "We are now in a better position to 
 175
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 adjust our accounts fairly," he observed, 
 as he took from his pocket M. Guillaume's 
 portfolio. " Listen," he commanded ; and 
 Guillaume turned weary but spiteful eyes 
 to him. " Here is your portfolio. Take 
 it. Look at it." 
 
 Guillaume sat up and obeyed the com- 
 mand. 
 
 "Well?" asked Dieppe, when the ex- 
 amination was ended. 
 
 "You have robbed me of twenty-five 
 thousand francs." 
 
 The Captain looked at him for a mo- 
 ment with a frown. But the next instant 
 he smiled. 
 
 " I must make allowances for the state 
 of your temper," he remarked. " But I 
 wish you would carry all your money in 
 notes. That draft, now, is no use to me. 
 Hence" he shrugged his shoulders re- 
 gretfully " I am obliged to leave your 
 Government still no less than twenty -five 
 thousand francs in debt to me." 
 
 " What ? " cried Guillaume, with a sav- 
 age stare. 
 
 176
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 " Oh, yes, you know that well. They 
 have fifty thousand which certainly don't 
 belong to them, and certainly do to me." 
 
 "That money 's forfeited," growled 
 Guillaume. 
 
 " If you like, then, I forfeit twenty-five 
 thousand of theirs. But I allow it in ac- 
 count with them. The debt now stands 
 reduced by half." 
 
 " I '11 get it back from you somehow," 
 threatened Guillaume, who was helpless, 
 but not cowed. 
 
 "That will be difficult. I gave it to 
 Paul de Roustache to discharge a claim 
 he had on me." 
 
 "To Paul de Roustache?" 
 
 " Yes. It 's true he lent me five thou- 
 sand again; but that 's ptfrely between 
 him and me. And I shall have spent it 
 long before you can even begin to take 
 steps to recover it." He paused a mo- 
 ment and then added, " If you still hanker 
 after your notes, I should recommend 
 you to find your friend and accomplice, 
 M. Paul." 
 
 177
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 "Who can tell? I saw him last on 
 the road across the river it leads to 
 Sasellano, I believe." Dieppe kept his 
 eye on his vanquished opponent, but 
 Guillaume threatened no movement. 
 The Captain dropped the revolver into 
 his pocket, stooped to pull up a tuft of 
 grass with moist earth adhering to it, 
 and, with the help of his handkerchief, 
 made a primitive plaster to stanch the 
 bleeding of his ear. As he was so en- 
 gaged, the sound of wheels slowly climb- 
 ing the hill became audible from the 
 direction of the village. 
 
 "You see," he went on, "you can't 
 return to the village you are on too 
 good terms with the police. Let me ad- 
 vise you to go to Sasellano 5 the flood 
 will be falling by now, and I should n't 
 wonder if we could find you a means of 
 conveyance." He jerked his thumb over 
 his shoulder towards the road behind him. 
 
 " I can't go back to the village ? " de- 
 manded Guillaume, sullenly. 
 178
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 "In my turn I must beg you to re- 
 member that I now carry a revolver. 
 Come, M. Guillaume, we 've played a 
 close hand, but the odd trick 's mine. 
 Go back and tell your employers not to 
 waste their time on me. No, nor their 
 money. They have won the big stake ; 
 let them be content. And again let me 
 remind you that Paul de Roustache has 
 your twenty thousand francs. I don't 
 think you '11 get them from him, but 
 you might. From me you '11 get no- 
 thing; and if you try the law oh, think, 
 my friend, how very silly you and your 
 Government will look ! " 
 
 As he spoke he went up to Guillaume 
 and took him by the arm, exerting a 
 friendly and persuasive pressure, under 
 which Guillaume presently found himself 
 mounting the eminence. The wheels 
 sounded nearer now, and Dieppe's ears 
 were awake to their movements. The 
 pair began to walk down the other side 
 of the slope towards the Cross, and the 
 carriage came into their view. It was 
 179
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 easy of identification: its broken-down, 
 lopsided top marked it beyond mistake. 
 
 An instant later Dieppe recognised the 
 burly figure of the driver, \vho was walk- 
 ing by his horses' heads. 
 
 " Wonderfully convenient ! " he ex- 
 claimed. " This fellow will carry you to 
 Sasellano without delay." 
 
 Guillaume did not indeed could not 
 refuse to obey the prompting of the Cap- 
 tarn's arm, but he grumbled as he went. 
 
 " I made sure of getting your papers," 
 he said. 
 
 "Unlooked-for difficulties will arise, 
 my dear M, Guillaume." 
 
 " I thought the reward was as good as 
 in my pocket." 
 
 ' The reward ? " The Captain stopped 
 and looked in his companion's face with 
 some amusement and a decided air of 
 gratification. "There was a reward? 
 Oh, I am important, it seems ! " 
 
 "Five thousand francs/' said Guil- 
 laume, sullenly. 
 
 " They rate me rather cheap," exclaimed 
 180
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 the Captain, his face falling. " I should 
 have hoped for five-and-twenty." 
 
 " Would you ? If it had been that, I 
 should have brought three men with 
 me." 
 
 "Hum!" said the Captain. "And 
 you gave me a stiff job by yourself, 
 eh?" He turned and signalled to the 
 driver, who had now reached the Cross : 
 "Wait a moment there, my friend." 
 Then he turned back again to Guil- 
 laume. "Get into the carriage go to 
 Saseilano; catch Paul if you can, but 
 leave me in peace," he said, and, diving 
 into his pocket, he produced the five 
 notes of a thousand francs which Paul 
 de Roustache, in some strange impulse 
 of repentance, or gratitude, had handed 
 to him. " What you tell your employers," 
 he added, "I don't care. This is a gift 
 from me to you. The deuce, I reward 
 effort as well as success I am more 
 liberal than your Government." The 
 gesture with which he held out the notes 
 was magnificent. 
 
 181
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Guillaume stared at him in amazement, 
 but his hand went out towards the notes. 
 
 " I am free to do what I can at Sasel- 
 lano?" 
 
 " Yes, free to do anything except bother 
 me. But I think your bird will have 
 flown." 
 
 Guillaume took the notes and hid them 
 in his pocket; then he walked straight 
 up to the driver, crying, " How much to 
 take me with you to Sasellano ? " 
 
 The driver looked at him, at Dieppe, 
 and then down towards the river. 
 
 " Come, the flood will be less by now ; 
 the river will be falling," said Dieppe. 
 
 " Fifty francs," said the driver, and 
 Guillaume got in. 
 
 " Good ! " said the Captain to himself. 
 " A pretty device ! And that scoundrel's 
 money did n't lie comfortably in the 
 pocket of a gentleman." He waved his 
 hand to Guillaume and was about to turn 
 away, when the driver came up to him 
 and spoke in a cautious whisper, first 
 looking over his shoulder to see whether 
 182
 
 The Straw in the Corner 
 
 his new fare were listening; but Guil- 
 laume was sucking at a flask. 
 
 " I have a message for you," he said. 
 
 " From the lady you carried ? " 
 
 " To the Count of Fieramondi's." 
 
 " Ah, you took her there 2 " The Cap- 
 tain frowned heavily. 
 
 " Yes, and left her there. But it 's not 
 from her ; it 's from another lady whom 
 I had n't seen before. She met me just 
 as I was returning from the Count's, and 
 bade me look out for you by the Cross " 
 
 " Yes, yes ? " cried Dieppe, eagerly. 
 "Give me the message." For his 
 thoughts flew back to the Countess at 
 the first summons. 
 
 The driver produced a scrap of paper, 
 carelessly folded, and gave it to him. 
 
 Dieppe ran to the carriage and read 
 the message by the light of its dim and 
 smoky lamp : 
 
 " I think I am in time. Come ; I wait 
 
 for you. Whatever you see, keep Andrea 
 
 hi the dark. If you are discreet, all will 
 
 be well, and I I shall be very grateful." 
 
 183
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 The driver mounted the box, the car- 
 riage rolled off down the hill, Dieppe 
 was left by the Cross, with the message 
 in his hand. He did not understand the 
 situation. 
 
 184
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE JOURNEY TO ROME 
 
 It was about ten o'clock or, it may 
 be, nearer half-past ten the same night 
 when two inhabitants of the village re- 
 ceived very genuine, yet far from un- 
 pleasant, shocks of surprise. 
 
 The first was the parish priest. He 
 was returning from a visit to the bedside 
 of a sick peasant and making his way 
 along the straggling street towards his 
 own modest dwelling, which stood near 
 the inn, when he met a tall stranger 
 of most dilapidated appearance, whose 
 clothes were creased and dirty, and 
 whose head was encircled by a stained 
 and grimy handkerchief. He wore no 
 hat ; his face was disfigured with blotches 
 of an ugly colour and, maybe, an uglier 
 185
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 significance ; his trousers were most atro- 
 ciously rent and tattered ; he walked with 
 a limp, and shivered in the cold night 
 air. This unpromising-looking person 
 approached the priest and addressed 
 him with an elaborate courtesy oddly 
 out of keeping with his scarecrow-like 
 appearance, but with words appropriate 
 enough to the figure that he cut. 
 
 "Reverend father," said he, "pardon 
 the liberty I take, but may I beg of your 
 Reverence's great kindness" 
 
 "It 's no use begging of me," inter- 
 rupted the priest hurriedly, for he was 
 rather alarmed. "In the first place, I 
 have nothing ; in the second, mendicancy 
 is forbidden by the regulations of the 
 commune." 
 
 The wayfarer stared at the priest, 
 looked down at his own apparel, and 
 then burst into a laugh. 
 
 "Begging forbidden, eh?" he ex- 
 claimed. "Then the poor must need 
 voluntary aid ! " He thrust his hand 
 into his pocket and brought out two 
 
 186
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 French five-franc pieces. " For the poor, 
 father," he said, pressing them into the 
 priest's hand. " For myself, I was merely 
 about to ask you the time of night." And 
 before the astonished priest could make 
 any movement the stranger passed on 
 his way, humming a soft, and senti- 
 mental tune. 
 
 "He was certainly mad, but he un- 
 doubtedly gave me ten francs," said the 
 priest to his friend the innkeeper, the 
 next day. 
 
 " I wish," growled the innkeeper, " that 
 somebody would give me some money to 
 pay for what those two runaway rogues 
 who lodged here had of me; their bag- 
 gage is worth no more than half what 
 they Ve cost me, and I '11 lay odds I 
 never clap eyes on them again." 
 
 And in this suspicion the innkeeper 
 proved, in the issue, to be absolutely 
 right; about the value of the luggage 
 there is, however, more room for doubt. 
 
 The second person who suffered a sur- 
 prise was no less a man than the Count 
 187
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 of Fieramondi himself. But how this 
 came about needs a little more explana- 
 tion. 
 
 In that very room through whose door- 
 way Captain Dieppe had first beheld the 
 lady whom he now worshipped with a 
 devotion as ardent as it was unhappy, 
 there were now two ladies engaged in 
 conversation. One sat in an arm-chair, 
 nursing the yellow cat of which mention 
 has been made earlier in this history ; the 
 other walked up and down with every 
 appearance of weariness, trouble, and dis- 
 tress on her handsome face. 
 
 " Oh, the Bishop was just as bad as the 
 banker," she cried fretfully, "and the 
 banker was just as silly as the Bishop. 
 The Bishop said that, although he might 
 have considered the question of giving 
 me absolution from a vow which I had 
 been practically compelled to take, he 
 could hold out no prospect of my get- 
 ting it beforehand for taking a vow 
 which I took with no other intention 
 than that of breaking it;" 
 188
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 " I told you he 'd say that before you 
 went," observed the lady in the arm-chair, 
 who seemed to be treating the situation 
 with a coolness in strong contrast to her 
 companion's agitation. 
 
 "And the banker said that although, 
 if I had actually spent fifty thousand lire 
 more than I possessed, he would have 
 done his best to see how he could extri- 
 cate me from the trouble, he certainly 
 would not help me to get fifty thousand 
 for the express purpose of throwing them 
 away." 
 
 " I thought the banker would say that," 
 remarked the other lady, caressing the cat. 
 
 " And they both advised me to take my 
 husband's opinion on the matter. My 
 husband's opinion ! " Her tone was 
 bitter and tragic indeed. "I suppose 
 they 're right," she said, flinging herself 
 dejectedly into a chair. "I must tell 
 Andrea everything. Oh, and he '11 for- 
 give me ! " 
 
 " Well, I should think it 's rather nice 
 being forgiven."
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " Oh, no, not by Andrea ! " The faintest 
 smile flitted for an instant across her 
 face. " Oh, no, Andrea does n't forgive 
 like that. His forgiveness is very well, 
 horribly biblical, you know. Oh, I 'd 
 better not have gone to Rome at all ! '' 
 
 " I never saw any good in your going 
 to Rome, you know." 
 
 "Yes, I must tell him everything. 
 Because Paul de Roustache is sure to 
 come and" 
 
 " He 's come already." observed the 
 second lady, calmly. 
 
 "What? Come?" 
 
 The other lady set down the cat, rose 
 to her feet, took out of her pocket a gold 
 ring and a gold locket, walked over to 
 her companion, and held them out to her. 
 " These are yours, are n't they ? " she in- 
 quired, and broke into a merry laugh. 
 The sight brought nothing but an aston- 
 ished stare and a breathless ejaculation 
 
 "Lucia!" 
 
 The two ladies drew their chair* close 
 together, and a long conversation ensued, 
 190
 
 Lucia being the chief narrator, while her 
 companion, whom she addressed from 
 time to time as Emilia, did little more 
 than listen and throw in exclamations 
 of wonder, surprise, or delight. 
 
 " How splendidly you kept the secret ! " 
 she cried once. And again, " How lucky 
 that he should be here ! " And again, 
 "I thought he looked quite charming." 
 And once again, " But, goodness, what a 
 state the poor man must be in ! How 
 could you help telling him, Lucia ? " 
 
 " I had promised," said Lucia, solemnly, 
 " and I keep my promises, Emilia." 
 
 "And that man has positively gone?" 
 sighed Emilia, taking no notice of a 
 rather challenging emphasis which Lucia 
 had laid on her last remark. 
 
 " Yes, gone for good I 'm sure of it. 
 And you need n't tell Andrea anything. 
 Just take all the vows he asks you to ! 
 But he won't now; you see he wants a 
 reconciliation as much as you do." 
 
 "I shall insist on taking at least one 
 vow," said Emilia, with a virtuous air. 
 191
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 She stopped and started. " But what in 
 the world am I to say about you, my 
 dear?" she asked. 
 
 " Say I 've just come back from Rome, 
 of course," responded Lucia. 
 
 " If he should find out" 
 
 " It 's very unlikely, and at the worst 
 you must take another vow, Emilia. 
 But Andrea '11 never suspect the truth 
 unless" 
 
 "Unless what?" 
 
 "Unless Captain Dieppe lets it out, 
 you know." 
 
 " It would be better if Captain Dieppe 
 did n't come back, I think," observed 
 Emilia, thoughtfully. 
 
 "Well, of all the ungrateful women ! " 
 cried Lucia, indignantly. But Emilia 
 sprang up and kissed her, and began 
 pressing her with all sorts of questions, 
 or rather with all sorts of ways of put- 
 ting one question, which made her blush 
 very much, and to which she seemed un- 
 able, or unwilling, to give any definite 
 reply. At last Emilia abandoned the 
 192
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 attempt to extract an admission, and 
 observed with a sigh of satisfaction: 
 
 "I think I 'd better see Andrea and 
 forgive him." 
 
 " You '11 change your frock first, won't 
 you, dear?" cried Lucia. It was cer- 
 tainly not desirable that Emilia should 
 present herself to the Count in the gar- 
 ments she was then wearing. 
 
 " Yes, of course. Will you come with 
 me to Andrea?" 
 
 " No. Send for me, presently as soon 
 as it occurs to you that I 've just come 
 back from Rome, you know, and should be 
 so happy to hear of your reconciliation." 
 
 Half an hour later, for the change of 
 costume had to be radical, since there is 
 all the difference in the world between a 
 travelling-dress and an easy, negligent, 
 yet elegant, toilette suggestive of home 
 and the fireside, and certainly not of 
 wanderings, the Count of Fieramondi 
 got his shock of surprise in the shape of 
 an inquiry whether he were at leisure to 
 receive a visit from the Countess. 
 193
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Yet his surprise, great as it was at a 
 result at once so prosperous and so 
 speedy, did not prevent him from draw- 
 ing the obvious inference. His thoughts 
 had already been occupied with Captain 
 Dieppe. It was now half -past ten; he 
 had waited an hour for dinner, and then 
 eaten it alone in some disquietude; as 
 time went on he became seriously un- 
 easy, and had considered the despatch 
 of a search expedition. If his friend did 
 not return in half an hour, he had de- 
 clared, he himself would go and look for 
 him ; and he had requested that he should 
 be informed the moment the Captain put 
 in an appearance. But, alas ! what is 
 friendship even friendship reinforced 
 by gratitude beside love ? As the poets 
 have often remarked, in language not 
 here to be attained, its power is insig- 
 nificant, and its claims go to the wall. 
 On fire with the emotions excited by the 
 Countess's message, the Count forgot 
 both Dieppe and all that he owed to 
 Dieppe's intercession; the matter went 
 194
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 clean out of his head for the moment. 
 He leapt up, pushed away the poem on 
 which he had been trying to concentrate 
 his mind, and cried eagerly : 
 
 " I 'm at the Countess's disposal. I '11 
 wait on her at once." 
 
 " The Countess is already on her way 
 here/' was the servant's answer. 
 
 The first transports of joy are perhaps 
 better left in a sacred privacy. Indeed 
 the Count was not for much explanation, 
 or for many words. What need was 
 there? The Countess acquiesced in his 
 view with remarkable alacrity ; the fewer 
 words there were, and especially, perhaps, 
 the fewer explanations, the easier and 
 more gracious was her part. She had 
 thought the matter over, there in the 
 solitude to which her Andrea's cruelty 
 had condemned her : and, yes, she would 
 take the oath in fact any number of 
 oaths to hold no further communication 
 whatever with Paul de Roustache. 
 
 " Ah, your very offer is a reproach to 
 me," said the Count, softly. " I told you 
 195
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 that now I ask no oath, that your promise 
 was enough, that" 
 
 " You told me ? " exclaimed the Count- 
 ess, with some appearance of surprise. 
 
 " Why, yes. At least I begged Dieppe 
 to tell you in my name. Did n't he ? " 
 
 For a moment the Countess paused, 
 engaged in rapid calculations, then she 
 said sweetly : 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course ! But it 's not the 
 same as hearing it from your own lips, 
 Andrea." 
 
 " Where did you see him ? " asked the 
 Count. "Did he pass the barricade? 
 Ah, we '11 soon have that down, won't we ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, Andrea ; do let 's have it 
 down, because" 
 
 " But where did you and Dieppe have 
 your talk ? " 
 
 " Oh oh down by the river, Andrea." 
 
 "He found you there?" 
 
 "Yes, he found me there, and and 
 talked to me." 
 
 "And gave you back the ring?" in- 
 quired the Count, tenderly. 
 196
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 The Countess took it from her pocket 
 and handed it to her husband. "I 'd 
 rather you 'd put it on yourself," she 
 said. 
 
 The Count took her hand in his and 
 placed the ring on her finger. It fitted 
 very well, indeed. There could be no 
 doubt that it was made for the hand on 
 which it now rested. The Count kissed 
 it as he set it there. 
 
 At last, however, he found time to re- 
 member the obligations he was under to 
 his friend. 
 
 " But where can our dear Dieppe be ? " 
 he cried. " We owe so much to him." 
 
 "Yes, we do owe a lot to him," mur- 
 mured the Countess. "But, Andrea" 
 
 " Indeed, my darling, we must n't for- 
 get him. I must 
 
 " No, we must n't forget him. Oh, no, 
 we won't. But, Andrea, I I Ve got 
 another piece of news for you." The 
 Countess spoke with a little timidity, as 
 if she were trying delicate ground, and 
 were not quite sure of her footing. 
 197
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "More news? What an eventful 
 night ! 
 
 He took his wife's hand. Away went 
 all thoughts of poor Dieppe again. 
 
 "Yes, it 's so lucky, happening just to- 
 night. Lucia has come back ! An hour 
 ago ! '' 
 
 " Lucia come back ! " exclaimed the 
 Count, gladly. "That's good news, indeed." 
 
 " It '11 delight her so much to find us 
 to find us like this again, Andrea." 
 
 "Yes, yes, we must send for her. Is 
 she in her room? And where has she 
 come from?" 
 
 " Rome," answered the Countess, again 
 in a rather nervous way. 
 
 " Rome ! " cried the Count in surprise. 
 " What took her to Rome ? " 
 
 "She does n't like to be asked much 
 about it," began the Countess, with a 
 prudent air. 
 
 " I 'm sure I don't want to pry into her 
 affairs, but" 
 
 " No, I knew you would n't want to do 
 that, Andrea." 
 
 198
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 " Still, my dear, it 's really a little odd. 
 She left only four days ago. Now she 's 
 back, and" 
 
 The Count broke off, looking rather 
 distressed. Such proceedings, accom- 
 panied by such mystery, were not, to his 
 mind, quite the proper thing for a young 
 and unmarried lady. 
 
 "I won't ask her any questions," he 
 went on, " but I suppose she 's told you, 
 Emilia?" 
 
 a Oh, yes, she 's told me," said the 
 Countess, hastily. 
 
 "And am I to be excluded from your 
 confidence ? " 
 
 The Countess put her arms round his 
 neck. 
 
 "Well, you know, Andrea," said she, 
 "you do sometimes scoff at religion- 
 well, I mean you talk rather lightly 
 sometimes, you know." 
 
 "Oh, she went on a religious errand, 
 did she!" 
 
 "Yes," the Countess answered in a 
 more confident tone. " She particularly 
 199
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 wanted to consult the Bishop of Mesopo- 
 tamia. She believes in him very much. 
 Oh, so do I. I do believe, Andrea, that 
 if you knew the Bishop of" 
 
 "My dear, I don't want to know the 
 Bishop of Mesopotamia; but Lucia is 
 perfectly at liberty to consult him as 
 much as she pleases. I don't see any 
 need for mystery." 
 
 "No, neither do I," murmured the 
 Countess. "But dear Lucia is is so 
 sensitive, you know." 
 
 "I remember seeing him about Rome 
 very well. I must ask Lucia whether he 
 still wears that" 
 
 "Really, the less you question Lucia 
 about her journey the better, dear 
 Andrea," said the Countess, in a tone 
 which was very affectionate, but also 
 marked by much decision. And there can 
 be no doubt she spoke the truth, from 
 her own point of view, at least. 
 "Would n't it be kind to send for her 
 now?" she added. In fact the Countess 
 found this interview, so gratifying and 
 200
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 delightful in its main aspect, rather diffi- 
 cult in certain minor ways, and Lucia 
 would be a convenient ally. It was 
 much better, too, that they should talk 
 about one another in one another's pres- 
 ence. That is always more straightfor- 
 ward ; and, in this case, it would minimise 
 the chances of a misunderstanding in the 
 future. For instance, if Lucia showed 
 ignorance about the Bishop of Mesopo- 
 tamia ! "Do let 's send for Lucia," the 
 Countess said again, coaxingly; and the 
 Count, after a playful show of unwilling- 
 ness to end their tete-a-t^te, at last con- 
 sented. 
 
 But here was another difficulty Lucia 
 could not be found. The right wing was 
 searched without result ; she was nowhere. 
 On the chance, unlikely indeed but pos- 
 sible, that she had taken advantage of 
 the new state of things, they searched the 
 left wing too with an equal absence of 
 result. Lucia was nowhere in the house ; 
 so it was reported. The Count was very 
 much surprised. 
 
 201
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "Can she have gone out at this time 
 of night ? " he cried. 
 
 The Countess was not much surprised. 
 She well understood how Lucia might 
 have gone out a little way far enough, 
 say, to look for Captain Dieppe, and 
 make him aware of how matters stood. 
 But she did not suggest this explanation 
 to her husband; explanations are to be 
 avoided when they themselves require 
 too much explaining. 
 
 " It 's very fine now," said she, looking 
 out of the window. " Perhaps she 's just 
 gone for a turn on the road." 
 
 "What for?" asked the Count, spread, 
 ing out his hands in some bewilder- 
 ment. 
 
 The Countess, in an extremity, once 
 more invoked the aid of the Bishop of 
 Mesopotamia. 
 
 "Perhaps, dear," she said gently, "to 
 think it over to reflect in quiet on what 
 she has learnt and been advised." And 
 she added, as an artistic touch, " To think 
 it over under the stars, dear Andrea." 
 202
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 The Count, betraying a trifle of impa- 
 tience, turned to the servant. 
 
 " Run down the road," he commanded, 
 "and see if the Countess Lucia is any- 
 where about." He returned to his wife's 
 side. " One good thing about it is that 
 we can have our talk out," said he. 
 
 "Yes, but let 's leave the horrid past 
 and talk about the future," urged the 
 Countess, with affection and no doubt 
 with wisdom also. 
 
 The servant, who in obedience to the 
 Count's order ran down the road towards 
 the village, did not see the Countess 
 Lucia. That lady, mistrusting the ex- 
 plicitness of her hurried note, had stolen 
 out into the garden, and was now stand- 
 ing hidden in the shadow of the barricade, 
 straining her eyes down the hill towards 
 the river and the stepping-stones. There 
 lay the shortest way for the Captain to re- 
 turnand of course, she had reasoned, he 
 would come the shortest way. She did 
 not, however, allow for the Captain's par- 
 donable reluctance to get wet a third 
 
 203
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 time that night. He did not know the 
 habits of the river, and he distrusted the 
 stepping-stones. After his experience he 
 was all for a bridge. Moreover he did 
 not hurry back to the Castle; he had 
 much to think over, and no inviting 
 prospect lured him home on the wings 
 of hope. What hope was there ? What 
 hope of happiness either for himself or 
 for the lady whom he loved? If he 
 yielded to his love, he wronged her her 
 and his own honour. If he resisted, he 
 must renounce her aye, and leave her, 
 not to a loving husband, but to one who 
 deceived her most grossly and most 
 cruelly, in a way which made her own 
 venial errors seem as nothing in the 
 Captain's partial, pitying eyes. In the 
 distress of these thoughts he forgot his 
 victories: how he had disposed of Paul 
 de Roustache, how he had defeated M. 
 Guillaume, how his precious papers were 
 safe, and even how the Countess was 
 freed from all her fears. It was her 
 misery he thought of now, not her fears. 
 
 204
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 For she loved him. And in his inmost 
 heart he knew that he must leave her. 
 
 Yes; in the recesses of his heart he 
 knew what true love for her and a true 
 regard for his own honour alike de- 
 manded. But he did not mean that, 
 because he saw this and was resolved to 
 act on it, the Count should escape cas- 
 tigation. Before he went, before he left 
 behind him what was dearest in life, and 
 again took his way alone, unfriended, 
 solitary (penniless too, if he had hap- 
 pened to remember this), he would speak 
 his mind to the Count, first in stinging 
 reproaches, later in the appeal that friend- 
 ship may make to honour; and at the 
 last he would demand from the Count, 
 as the recompense for his own services, 
 an utter renunciation and abandonment 
 of the lady who had dropped the locket 
 by the ford, of her whom the driver had 
 carried to the door of the house which 
 the Countess of Fieramondi honoured 
 with her gracious presence. In drawing 
 a contrast between the Countess and this 
 205
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 shameless woman the last remembrance 
 of the Countess's peccadilloes faded from 
 his indignant mind. He quickened his 
 pace a little, as a man does when he has 
 reached a final decision. He crossed the 
 bridge, ascended the hill on which the 
 Castle stood, and came opposite to the 
 little gate which the Count himself had 
 opened to him on that first happy or 
 unhappy night on which he had become 
 an inmate of the house. 
 
 Even as he came to it, it opened, and 
 the Count's servant ran out. In a mo- 
 ment he saw Dieppe and called to him 
 loudly and gladly. 
 
 "Sir, sir, my master is most anx- 
 ious about you. He feared for your 
 safety." 
 
 " I 'm safe enough," answered Dieppe, 
 in a gloomy tone. 
 
 "He begs your immediate presence, 
 sir. He is in the dining-room." 
 
 Dieppe braced himself to the task 
 before him. 
 
 206
 
 The Journey to Rome 
 
 " 1 will follow you," he said ; and pass- 
 ing the gate he allowed the servant to 
 precede him into the house. "Now 
 for what I must say ! " he thought, as 
 he was conducted towards the dining- 
 room. 
 
 The servant had been ordered to let 
 the Count know the moment that Cap- 
 tain Dieppe returned. How obey these 
 orders more to the letter than by usher- 
 ing the Captain himself directly into the 
 Count's presence? He threw open the 
 door, announcing 
 
 " Captain Dieppe ! " and then with- 
 drawing with dexterous quickness. 
 
 Captain Dieppe had expected nothing 
 good. The reality was worse than his 
 imagining The Count sat on a sofa, 
 and by him, with her arms round his 
 neck, was the lady whom Dieppe had 
 escorted across the ford on the road 
 from Sasellano. The Captain stood still 
 just within the doorway, frowning heav- 
 ily. Sadly he remembered the Countess's 
 
 207
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 letter. Alas, it was plain enough that 
 she had not come in time ! 
 
 Just at this moment the servant, hav- 
 ing seen nothing of Countess Lucia on 
 the road, decided, as a last resort, to 
 search the garden for her Ladyship. 
 
 208
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE LUCK OF THE CAPTAIN 
 
 It is easy to say that the Captain 
 should not have been so shocked, and 
 that it would have been becoming in him 
 to remember his own transgression com- 
 mitted in the little hut in the hollow of 
 the hill. But human nature is not, as a 
 rule at least, so constituted that the im- 
 mediate or chief effect of the sight of 
 another's wrong-doing is to recall our 
 own. The scene before him outraged all 
 the Captain's ideas of how his neighbours 
 ought to conduct themselves, and (per- 
 haps a more serious thing) swept away 
 all memory of the caution contained in 
 the Countess's letter. 
 
 The Count rose with a smile, still hold- 
 ing the Countess by the hand. 
 209
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 "My dear friend," he cried, "we 're 
 delighted to see you. But what ? You Ve 
 been in the wars ! " 
 
 Dieppe made no answer. His stare at- 
 tracted his host's attention. 
 
 "Ah," he pursued, with a laugh, "you 
 wonder to see us like this? We are 
 treating you too much en famille ! But 
 indeed you ought to be glad to see it. 
 We owe it almost all to you. No, she 
 would n't be here but for you, my friend. 
 Would you, dear ? " 
 
 "No, I I don't suppose I should." 
 
 Did they refer to Dieppe's assisting 
 her across the ford? If he had but 
 known 
 
 "Come," urged the Count, "give me 
 your hand, and let my wife and me" 
 
 "What?" cried the Captain, loudly, in 
 unmistakable surprise. 
 
 The Count looked from him to the 
 Countess. The Countess began to laugh. 
 Her husband seemed as bewildered as 
 Dieppe. 
 
 "Oh, dear," laughed the Countess, "I 
 
 210
 
 The Luck of the Captain 
 
 believe Captain Dieppe did n't know 
 me!" 
 
 " Did n't know you ? " 
 
 " He 's only seen me once, and then in 
 the dark, you know. Oh, what did you 
 suspect? But you recognise me now? 
 You will believe that I really am Andrea's 
 wife?" 
 
 The Captain could not catch the cue. 
 It meant to him so complete a reversal 
 of what he had so unhesitatingly be- 
 lieved, such an utter upsetting of all his 
 notions. For if this were in truth the 
 Countess of Fieramondi, why, who was 
 the other lady? His want of quickness 
 threatened at last to ruin the scheme 
 which he had, although unconsciously, 
 done so much to help ; for the Count was 
 growing puzzled. 
 
 " I I Of course I know the Coun- 
 tess of Fieramondi," stammered Dieppe. 
 
 The Countess held out her hand grace- 
 fully. There could, at least, be little 
 harm in kissing it. Dieppe walked 
 across the room and paid his homage. 
 211
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 As he rose from this social observance 
 he heard a voice from the doorway say- 
 ing: 
 
 " Are n't you glad to see me, Andrea ? " 
 
 The Captain shot round in time to see 
 the Count paying the courtesy which he 
 had himself just paid and paying it to 
 a lady whom he did know very well. 
 The next instant the Count turned to 
 him, saying: 
 
 "Captain, let me present you to my 
 wife's cousin, the Countess Lucia Bonavia 
 d'Orano. She has arrived to-night from 
 Rome. How did you leave the Bishop 
 of Mesopotamia, Lucia ? " 
 
 But the Countess interposed very 
 quickly. 
 
 "Now, Andrea, you promised me not 
 to bother Lucia about her journey, and 
 especially not about the Bishop. You 
 don't want to talk about it, do you, 
 Lucia?" 
 
 " Not at all," said Lucia, and the Count 
 laughed rather mockingly. "And you 
 need n't introduce me to Captain Dieppe, 
 212
 
 The Luck of the Captain 
 
 either," she went on. "We 've met 
 before." 
 
 "Met before?" The Count turned to 
 Dieppe. " Why, where was that ? " 
 
 " At the ford over the river." It was 
 Lucia now who interposed. " He helped 
 me across. Oh, I '11 tell you all about it." 
 
 She began her narrative, which she 
 related with particular fulness. For a 
 while Dieppe watched her. Then he 
 happened to glance towards the Countess. 
 He found that lady's eyes set on him 
 with an intentness full of meaning. The 
 Count's attention was engrossed by Lucia. 
 Emilia gave a slight but emphatic nod. 
 A slow smile dawned on Captain Dieppe's 
 face. 
 
 "Indeed," ended Lucia, "I 'm not at 
 all sure that I don't owe my life to Cap- 
 tain Dieppe." And she bestowed on the 
 Captain a very kindly glance. The Count 
 turned to speak to his wife. Lucia 
 nodded sharply at the Captain. 
 
 " You were er returning from 
 Rome ? " he asked. 
 
 213
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 " From visiting the Bishop of Mesopo- 
 tamia," called the Countess. 
 
 "Yes," said Lucia. "I should never 
 have got across but for you." 
 
 " But tell me about yourself, Dieppe," 
 said the Count. " You 're really in a sad 
 state, my dear fellow." 
 
 The Captain felt that the telling of his 
 story was ticklish work. The Count sat 
 down on the sofa; the two ladies stood 
 behind it; their eyes were fixed on the 
 Captain in warning glances. 
 
 " Well, I got a message from a fellow 
 to-night to meet him on the hill outside 
 the village by the Cross there, you know. 
 I fancied I knew what he wanted, so I 
 went." 
 
 " That was after you parted from me, I 
 suppose ? " asked Emilia. 
 
 " Yes," said the Captain, boldly. " It 
 was as I supposed. He was after my 
 papers. There was another fellow with 
 him. I I don't know who " 
 
 "Well, I daresay he did n't mention 
 his name," suggested Lucia. 
 214
 
 The Luck of the Captain 
 
 "No, no, he did n't," agreed the Cap- 
 tain, hastily. "I knew only Guillaume 
 and that name 's an alias of a certain 
 M. Sevier, a police spy, who had his rea- 
 sons for being interested in me. Well, 
 my dear friend, Guillaume tried to bribe 
 me. Then with the aid of Just in 
 time the Captain checked himself "of 
 the other rascal he er attacked me" 
 
 "All this was before you met me, I 
 suppose ? " inquired Lucia. 
 
 "Certainly, certainly," assented the 
 Captain. " I had been pursuing the sec- 
 ond fellow. I chased him across the 
 river" 
 
 " You caught him ? " cried the Count. 
 
 " No. He escaped me and made off in 
 the direction of Sasellano." 
 
 "And the first one this Guillaume?" 
 
 " When I got back he was gone," said 
 the Captain. "But I bear marks of a 
 scratch which he gave me, you per- 
 ceive." 
 
 He looked at the Count. The Count 
 appeared excellently well satisfied with 
 215
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 the story. He looked at the ladies ; they 
 were smiling and nodding approval. 
 
 " Deuce take it," thought the Captain, 
 " I seem to have hit on the right lies by 
 chance ! " 
 
 "All ends most happily," cried the 
 Count. "Happily for you, my dear 
 friend, and most happily for me. And 
 here is Lucia with us again too ! In 
 truth it ; s a most auspicious evening. I 
 propose that we allow Lucia time to 
 change her travelling-dress, and Dieppe 
 a few moments to wash off the stains 
 of battle, and then we '11 celebrate the 
 joyous occasion with a little supper." 
 
 The Count's proposal met with no op- 
 positionleast of all from Dieppe, who 
 suddenly remembered that he was fam- 
 ished. 
 
 The next morning, the garden of the 
 Castle presented a pleasing sight. Work- 
 men were busily engaged in pulling 
 down the barricade, while the Count and 
 Countess sat on a seat hard by. Some- 
 times they watched the operations ; some- 
 
 216
 
 The Luck of the Captain 
 
 times the Count read in a confidential 
 and tender voice from a little sheaf of 
 papers which he held in his hand. When 
 he ceased reading, the Countess would 
 murmur, " Beautiful ! " and the Count 
 shake his head in a poet's affectation of 
 dissatisfaction with his verse. Then 
 they would fall to watching the work of 
 demolition again. At last the Count re- 
 marked : 
 
 " But where are Lucia and our friend 
 Dieppe?" 
 
 " Walking together down there by the 
 stream," answered the Countess. And, 
 after a pause, she turned to him, and, in 
 a very demure fashion, hazarded a sug- 
 gestion. "Do you know, Andrea, I 
 think Lucia and Captain Dieppe are in- 
 clined to take to one another very 
 much I " 
 
 " It 's an uncommonly sudden attach- 
 ment," laughed the Count. 
 
 "Yes," agreed his wife, biting her lip. 
 "It 's certainly sudden. But consider 
 in what an interesting way their ac- 
 217
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 quaintance began ! Do you know any- 
 thing about him ? " 
 
 "I know he 's a gentleman, and a 
 clever fellow," returned the Count. 
 " And from time to time he makes some 
 money, I believe." 
 
 " Lucia 's got some money," mused the 
 Countess. 
 
 Down by the stream they walked, side 
 by side, showing indeed (as the Countess 
 remarked) every sign of taking to one 
 another very much. 
 
 "You really think we shall hear no 
 more of Paul de Roustachel" asked 
 Lucia. 
 
 " I 'm sure of it ; and I think M. Guil- 
 laume will let me alone too. Indeed 
 there remains only one question." 
 
 "What 's that?" asked Lucia. 
 
 "How you are going to treat me," 
 said the Captain. "Think what I have 
 suffered already ! " 
 
 " I could n't help that," she cried. " My 
 word was absolutely pledged to Emilia. 
 'Whatever happens,' I said to her, 'I 
 
 218
 
 The Luck of the Captain 
 
 promise I won't tell anybody that I 'm 
 not the Countess. 7 If I had n't promised 
 that, she could n't have gone to Rome at 
 all, you know. She 'd have died sooner 
 than let Andrea think she had left the 
 Castle." 
 
 " You remember what you said to her. 
 Do you remember what you said to me ? " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "When we talked in the hut in the 
 hollow of the hill. You said you would 
 be all that you could be to me." 
 
 " Did I say as much as that * And when 
 I was Countess of Fieramondi ! Oh ! " 
 
 " Yes, and you let me do something 
 even when you were Countess of Fiera- 
 mondi, too ! " 
 
 "That was not playing the part well." 
 
 The Captain looked just a little doubt- 
 ful, and Lucia laughed. 
 
 "Anyhow," said he, "you ; re not 
 Countess of Fieramondi now." 
 
 She looked up at him. 
 
 "You 're a very devout young lady," 
 he continued, "who goes all the way to 
 219
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 Rome to consult the Bishop of Mesopo- 
 tamia. Now, that" the Captain took 
 both her hands in his "is exactly the 
 sort of wife for me." 
 
 " Monsieur le Capitaine, I have always 
 thought you a courageous man, and now 
 I am sure of it. You have seen and 
 aided all my deceit; and now you want 
 to marry me ! " 
 
 " A man can't know his wife too well," ob- 
 served the Captain. " Come, let me go and 
 communicate my wishes to Count Andrea." 
 
 "What? Why, you only met me for 
 the first time last night ! " 
 
 " Oh, but I can explain 
 
 "That you had previously fallen in 
 love with the Countess of Fieramondi? 
 For your own sake and ours too" 
 
 " That 's very true," admitted the Cap- 
 tain. " I must wait a little, I suppose." 
 
 "You must wait to tell Andrea that 
 you love me, but" 
 
 " Precisely ! " cried the Captain. 
 " There is no reason in the world why 
 I should wait to tell yon." 
 220
 
 The Luck of the Captain 
 
 And then and there he told her again 
 in happiness the story which had seemed 
 so tragic when it was wrung from him 
 in the shepherd's hut. 
 
 "Undoubtedly, I am a very fortunate 
 fellow," he cried, with his arm round 
 Lucia's waist. "I come to this village 
 by chance. By chance I am welcomed 
 here instead of having to go to the inn. 
 By chance I am the means of rescuing a 
 charming lady from a sad embarrassment. 
 I am enabled to send a rascal to the 
 right-about. I succeed in preserving my 
 papers. I inflict a most complete and 
 ludicrous defeat on that crafty old fel- 
 low, Guillaume Sevier ! And, by heaven ! 
 when I do what seems the unluckiest 
 thing of all, when, against my will, I fall 
 in love with my dear friend's wife, when 
 my honour is opposed to my happiness, 
 when I am reduced to the saddest plight 
 why, I say, by heaven, she turns out 
 not to be his wife at all ! Lucia, am I 
 not born under a lucky star ? " 
 
 "I think I should be very foolish not 
 221
 
 Captain Dieppe 
 
 to to do my best to share your luck," 
 said she. 
 
 " I am the happiest fellow in the 
 world," he declared. "And that," he 
 added, as though it were a rare and 
 precious coincidence, "with my con- 
 science quite at peace." 
 
 Perhaps it is rare, and perhaps the 
 Captain's conscience had no right to be 
 quite at peace. For certainly he had 
 not told all the truth to his dear friend, 
 the Count of Fieramondi. Yet since no 
 more was heard of Paul de Roustache, 
 and the Countess's journey remained an 
 unbroken secret, these questions of casu- 
 istry need not be raised. After all, is it 
 for a man to ruin the tranquillity of a 
 home for the selfish pleasure of a con- 
 science quite at peace ? 
 
 But as to the consciences of those two 
 very ingenious young ladies, the Countess 
 of Fieramondi, and her cousin, Countess 
 Lucia, the problem is more difficult. The 
 Countess never confessed, and Lucia 
 never betrayed, the secret. Yet they
 
 The Luck of the Captain 
 
 were both devout ! Indeed, the problem 
 seems insoluble. 
 
 Stay, though ! Perhaps the counsel 
 and aid of the Bishop of Mesopotamia 
 (in partibus) were invoked again. His 
 lordship's position, that you must com- 
 mit your sin before you can be absolved 
 from the guilt of it, not only appears 
 most logical in itself, but' was, in the cir- 
 cumstances of the case, not discouraging. 
 
 223
 
 A 000110808