THE KIDNAPPED PRINCE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVI, Issue 207, 30 August 1905, Page 11

THE KIDNAPPED PRINCE.

m ■ m By PL X jjsb E. A. Weeees, Anthers of " Prisoner- of War, a " Unknown, " etc

SYNOPSIS OF PEETIOrS CHAPT-SES. i Clement Carre, a young Frenchman, | visits tie chambers of Roland Carew, an; Engiis____n of wealth and leisure, w.t_t, whom he is on tatimat. terms, and hints at; the possibility of the occurrence ot wca-' derfnl things about to happen to him. and. implying that he is concerned in a plot to restore the old li.narcfcy in France. Roland presently visits ir-s fri-hd, Violet Nicholson. _ young lady of great chare. and mnch character, who is trying to asie a living at literature, where amongst other -Giiiss, the matter of the Legitimist Plot is discussed with some originality, j Having left Violet Xicholscn. with whom.' nninowii io himself. E.iacd is tn love. fee goes to a restaurant, where he nnds a pocket book, belonging to two Ftench__e_u _n Berri and Souvestre. iv which he finds confirmation of the Royalist plot. He restores the papers to their owners, and is by them induced to visit their headquarters, where he is assaulted a_>d nearly killed, but cv Sliding that his friend Clement Carre is the n.tn whom the con.pirators wish to place upon the throne of France, he consents to assist them so far a. to help in freeing Carr_ from the prison in which he has been itamored. In the meantime the conspirators take the ET_itest precast-ons against his escape. After being kept ia confinement for a week, Roland is taken aboard lie Eyes of Flra, a steam yacht which the plotters Save chartered for their purpose. In a dense fog they run across a drifting boat, from -which Charles Aohurn is rescued, through the intervention, of Roland. Once <*_ bosrd. the conspirators attempt to murder seweomer. but are _g_in foiled by Roland, who is warned thr _ any <_o_nterp!oti:-_g on their part Trill end wiUi certain death. Devil's Island, after an tmcomfortable is at length sighted, when the three c recch__•*_. and the tiro Englishmen •meet a lauding, and by means of poisonous fumes render insensible the guards of the solitary prison in which Carre Is confined. Whilst liberating _rm, they are surprised by ths changing of the "guard. ! _nt d.trr .. severe strr-ggi" manage to __- j rompl'sh their purpose. Once again safely aboard tr? x_yes of Fir., they steam full ' speed ahead, ta esca.e arty possible por__i_ CHAPTER VL—Continued. As the tiny boat flew like one winged across the sea. Roland heard the shouts aad cries of the men on the island when they found they had been so utterly and impudently tricked. He foresaw that they would despatch a vessel to overtake the escaped prisoner and he wondered whether the Eyes of Fire could outsail her. and then he saw the Lights fiash out oa the yacht, which, had lain hitherto a shadow dimly guessed at. And still there was no slackening cf labouring sinew and straining chest; and body and soul were sucked into a whirlpool of effort, and still the bullets flew round taem. The Eyes of Fire was reached at last. and the three who were unhurt dragged ' the three -wounded on to the dcci.. The Portuguese were ready. Roland heard the vessel drawing a long breath, and th;:n he heard the swirf of the water, and the first churning cf foam, and slowly, with gathering speed, th<? Eves of Fire got under wa.j. "The narrowest shave I've ever been tiir-ugh!" said Auburn in a shaken voice. "Come on. Roland, help mc tc carry them down into the cabin." Clement Carre was stiil insensible, and Roland .arried him down ia his arms; Auburn followed with dv _>erri, and Souvestre came at_er, staggering and reeling. Then they returned to fetch Jacques; but when titey came to lift him up, a certainty came to them that he. at least, had passed beyond the province of human aid. | ".hot through the heart,'' said Auburn. "Should you have thought he had one to be shot through?" "Don't be a brute. Auburn." "Come down below. You look rather done up; and there's dv Berri to be seen to." "Dv Berri: There's Clement Carre, who's worth fifty of him. Come on.'' They hurried down the companion. | Souvestre had thrown himself into a j chair and was asking for brandy, the j others lay where they had leiz them. ] Roland paid no attention to anyonp j but Clement, who looked as white and i weli-nich as haggard as a corpse; _•• j loosened his clothes and dashed water j in his face. "He isn't strong, yon I know,'' he said. "I hope that stuS is j ail right.'' " j "Tle'il be as fit as a fiea in five i minutes,"* said Auburn cheerfully. He lifted Clement's drooping head and felt his p-oi_e. "Look, he's coming round aiready: don't you worry, old man.'' And indeed Clement's eyes unclosed. and he gazed up at Roland with an expression first of ineffable weariness, then of curiosity, and lastly cf raptur j ons recognition. ' "Why. it's Roley!"' he mirrmttred. I "Sweet ange! didst thou fiy down from , the skies on an odour of brimstone? | Where The dickens am I?" j Anburn said "Oh. Lord!" and turned j precipitately away to attend to Paul, j' Roland, who had scarcely been prepared fcr such a mode of addrr-ss under the circumsTanc"'" 1 . laughed grimly. "You've just, been rescued by your friends, my sou. and this is the cabin of a yacht." Allow mc to introduce M. Armand Souvestre- to whom your thanks are due for your rescue."' He indicated Armand by a wave of Ms hand: but Armand did not get up, or evince the slightest interest in his , protege. Clement lifted his head and j T.ofc a look at him, then he let it drop ; again. "\Viio"s him?" i The "him" was Auburn, indicated | with the point of a forefinger. Auburn j caught the gesture in a mirror, and i wheeled round with an exceedingly i sweeping bow. S "The humblest of your Majesty's ser- J vents."' he sali. airily, "who hopes to ; hat" the pleasure of kissing your Majesty's royal hand when yo.ir Majesty i lis.--, recovered his majestic health.** '■ "tiis name is Auburn." supplemented ! Roland. "And he isn't such a fool as i he looks. I give you my word for it."' "I'm glad of that."' said Clement < Carrp. iansruidiy. "fl-iand, what have you been doing?" i Roland explained hurriedly. Fresh '■ from the scene of the fight, he painted it in full colours, not without laying son. stress on Auburn's part in it. So .restre, who had recovered himself ■ after a dose oi brandy, sat nn v.-ith an - air of weariness and studied his sov_- j reic_":; face while lie listened to the ■ na r ; -.nve. ! '-'.'".:.-.- >:>! you do for it?" Clement ! as.::-:. :.• K:r-' , ss:ns him direc'i.r. "I nn- < der-1;:.;::'. :ny rriend, ALr Carew's _otpv.s. bur wbat were yottrs?" ' "I b ivf but one."' said the imperrnrb- j able Armand, "I wish to restore your t Highness to the throne of his ances- i tors-" j 1 "Did you say throne or tomb?" 11 "Throne, I trust. We shall not find^i

| it a difncult matter; France is weary I of her Republic." Clement Carre made no reply; he re- | garded Armand with a most elusive ' smile, and then turned to Roland. "I'll dispense with a levee to-night; I desire to retire to my couch. Roland picked hrm up and carried him off to his own bunk and laid him down very gently. "That beastly stuff has knocked yovi clean off your pins." be i said. "I say, Clement, how do you \ like this affair?" "I'm glad to be away," said dement, quietly. "He looked as though he understated the truth, but the next minute he was talking nonsense as usual. "I told you I was an important person, didn't I? But a child of joy can't exist like a hird in a. ease; prive you mv word I only composed two lines all the while I was on the island. And them I've forgotten, because I couldn't write them down, because I hadn't any paper, because I might have started treasonous correspondence with the seagulls. Violet?" "Don't know," said Roland, shortly. "What do you think of Paul and Armand V "I think the big one was in a blue funk and the Little one wore stays. Ah, Roley. dear, I don't see myself sitting on a throne. Let's talk of something else." Roland stified a sigh. "I hate this place. However. Jacques is dead, so we are three against five; and Auburn and I are pretty strong. I shouldn't much wonder if it came to a fight, you know. 3 "Well, if Burnt-Almonds wants to I make mc a King against my will,'' said ■ Clemeut Carre calmly, "he will find he has caught a Tartar. lam going to by-bye." Roland assisted his Majesty's toilet and then went in to the other berth, where he found Auburn alone, Souvestre and Paul having also retired. "Got rid of your sprig of royalty," was his greeting when he saw Roland. "Yes. he's gone to sleep. He looks very sick. These brutes have done their best to kill him." "He's an aspiring sprig, and thorny to handle; I'm thinking Souvestre will find that out by and bye. I say, Sohand! ""Wen?" "What on earth would have happened if we hadn't beea there?" "Ask another:" "I say, you know, Armand funked it awfully. Fancy his wanting to leave dn Berri on the beach!" "I don't think he funged it. He was lookins to the end —thinking of his confounded old Society of Fire." "Of course it was a risky thing going back like that. Some of the men had already got down en the ''each, hadn't they? 3 "One had, I think." "Faith, he came down pretty quick! I thought he went by express, but ours was only Fast-Train-to-'Erne-'lll compared with his. By the bye, what became of bim?" "Oh, he sat down," said Roland, vaguely. Auburn looked at him and laughed; then he put his hand on Roland's arm for a minute. "That's the second time, you know. Look here. Roland, you look fagged out, and there's blood on your sleeve. Sure you're not hurt?" "A bullet grazed my arm, that's aIL For goodness' sake. Auburn, don't go j Poking about mc with those bandages! I believe you're thirsting to sew mc up." Auburn put him into a chair, bandaged his arm, and actually bathed his feet, which were badly cut by scrambling over the rocks. In the middle of his affectionate ministrations, Roland went to sleep and snored. Auburn stopped short and looked afc him. " "The man's as callous as an oyster! Oh, Roland, my very good Roland, 1 i <_n__ot possibly stay down here if yon I are going to snore- Weil, I don't | !;_ow that Clement Carre wants any- ! thing more but sleep, and Roland looks I_s if he were good for twelve hours. ! So. in case anybody should come and 1 pry at you, I'll take the liberty of tnrai ing the key in the lock—so! and now : I'll go on deck and have a little smoke." ! CHAPTER VII. Auburn sat and smoked and watched the circle of the sea. The Eyes of Fire was going at racing speed, and, Culm as the night was, there blew a high wind on her deck. Auburn watci_ed the stars paling in the brightening skies, and the liirht growing ia the east; presently the sky began to open aud unfold like a flower in morning mists of golden cloud; brief was the enchanted twilight; the wind blew colder, with an awakening note, and through flights of pale cloud there shot arrows of sunshine. Then a star of gold nickered in a hollow of the rippling sea. it rose into a bar, a crescent, a semi-circle. a full orb—the sea shone with daylight. " 'Little gold sun.' " said Auburn, with a touch of sentiment. " 'come out of the dawn.'" The time was favourable to meditation, and Auburn was dreaming of England, when his thoughts were broken in upon by a noise below. Someone, apparently, was hammering and pounding at a door. Auburn, lost in dreams, paid no heed, till a voice began shouting in no gentle tones. "Auburn! Auburn! Come and let mc out." "Oh, ah!" said Auburn, leisurely making his way down the companion, "I forgot. You needn't batter the door in, Roland." "You forgot!" said Roland. "Upon my word, you're pretty cool. What's the time?" "Getting on for tiffin. Sun's been up about two hours." "Haven't you been to sleep at all?" "Not I. Do I look tired?" "No, you look fresh enough, all things considered. I say-"—Roland slightly lowered his voice—"have yon thought ?" "All right. Get it over before the others eotne up. They're delicate, and mightn't like it." The two Engiishm.n went on deck, where lay the body of Jacques, his face stiffened in a look of expectation. ■'Get an old piece of sailcloth or something, and a needle and thread.' 1 said Roland. "The Portuguese will know."' They got a piece of canvas, and elnrasiiv- sewed it round him. When it was partly done, Roland stopped short. Oughtn't we to go through his pockets ?'' he asked. There -were only two pockets in the man's dirty clothes: from one came a plug of rank tobacco, and a pouch; from the other a large silver watch, still ticking, and a knife, with a broad, short, keen blade, in a wooden sheath. Roland was yet staring at the knife wheji. Auburn said sharply

i "Here*a a good deal of loose caah, Boland. 3 It was indeed a good deal for a common sailor to possess. Most of it w_s paper money, and by a rough calculation ihey made it out to amount to over a thonaf-nd francs. Thai's 3 lot for a man to eaxry j about with him/ said Roland. "It's a lot for a man to have. I don't ■ wonder at his carrying it on him; no doubt it was the safest place. That's a sweet little penknife you've got there.'' '•"Yes," said Roland. "The case is ! the oddest part of it." They loolted at it together. It -was of plain wood; but in one corner there | were traces of initials. The surname of Jacques they knew to be Mereier. The second initial was an tnnnast-akeable B. i The Englishmen looked at each other, ' and did not speak. A shadow fell across the face of the ' dead roan. Both looked tip with a start: bat it was only one of the Portuguese, ' who wished them good day. "What do you want?" said Roland 1 sharply. *_.ou should not leave the wi-eeL" "Surely the gentlemen were not going to throw that beautiful coat into the sea? And those shoes —that scarf and hat—Jacques would never need them again, and they would do no good to the sharks, if titer, were any, which there weren .. And Pedro and Juan would be ( so grateful it the gentlemen would peri mit " "Let him!" said Auburn lacprhing. "No, no, Roland, you mustn't spoil the play. Fate is working out a dear little ' piece of irony for us. Sit down and for- | get that you are civilised." i Pedro despoiled the corpse of its up- | per garments, leaving exposed a great ! brown hairy neck. On the man's shoul- , ders there were deep and dark red lines, j close-crossed and cruel. ''The fellow has been under the lash," I said Auburn critically. "Now. I wonj der where he got those marks.* 7 Pedro looked up with a gleam of nni derstanding. He knew a few words of ; English. i "Jacques showed them to mc once, and | said it was M. dv BerrL" I "'Why?" "I do not know why: but—Senor is I good to Pedro." "Yes," said Auburn nodding. "Senor has given Pedro a beautiful coat, and | shoes, and lots of lovely things." | Pedro shielded his mouth with his \ hand. "Senor—Jacques said there were 50 1 lashes for him, but there would have ; been a hundred, only " | "Well? 3 "He promised to work for _»L dv BerrL" ! "What at?" "Ah. senor—Jacques poor—senor dv I Berri rich." ! Auburn thrust his hand into Jacques' j pocket-book, which he was holding, and j drew out some notes. j "Senor Auburn rich too," hs_ said with I a smile; but Pedro shrank back. I "No money—no, senor, but listen. ! Jacques say he sharpen senor*3 knife for I him." "Go on." | Roland had turned away, unable longer to bear the sight oi the dead man _ ghastj ly face. j Pedro stood xrp. signing to Auburn to I keep silence, clenched his right band i round an imaginary knife, and with a terrible stealthy gesture, imitated the act of plunging the blade between Roland's shoulders. Auburn toadied his own breast and looked at Pedro, who nodded his head. '• That will do. Here, quick. Roland, finish the wcrk. Now go. Pedro; you hay. been very good. Oh. fetch us- something heavy, you understand ;*' They stitched Jacques up in the sail, tied an iron bar to his feet, and in a breathless hurry lifted their dreadful burden and placed it on the taffraiL There for a moment they both paused. "We therefore commit his body to the deep." Roland began, but stopped, forI getting the .exact words. Auburn held I up his hand. ! "Stop there. I don . love this gentleman. Roland : but he's dead, and we won't i be vindictive." And together they swung the body over- ! board. It fell with a dull splash into ' the sea, arid the deep received it from their sight. Auburn threw after it the leather bag full of blood-money, the I watch, and the tobacco. The dagger he ; was about to put into his pocket, when I he saw something guttering on the decit | beside it. i "Hullo, what's this?" he saidIt was a woman's wedding ring. ' "Oh." said Auburn with a hysterical gasp of laughter. "It only needed that." And he dung the ring into th. sea. "I wish we had left it on him."' said ; Roland, clenching his hands. "Oh, I wish i we had left it on him." "Oh, hell be able to find it—if he wants it. Come and have some tiffin." Auburn was whistling the Dead March as they went down tog-ther. Juan had j got ready some breakfast, and they were both hungry; but first there were the ; sick to be visited. Clement Carre was stiil asleep and smiling, but in the other berth dv Berri wa_ tossing to and fro, and asking for 1 water. Roland's conscience smote him: ' he fetched a glass, and held it to his eager ' "PaSotrvestre came and looked in on them. "They are not then pursuing us?" | "Apparently not," said Auburn. I "I am greatly rested," said Souvestre. ! "This dear Paul seems to be a little fev--1 erish." "He'll be up and about in a week. Will j you come and have something to eat, Soui vestre?" "With pleasure. How is our friend, ' ML Carre?" 1 "Asleep. Everything is going on all j right; but we all, I think, want to settle our next move. Myself, I do not even know whither Pedro is taking us," said Roland. "Back io England, That is the refuge of the outcast." "England is too much honoured," said Auburn, bowing profoundedly. They sat down to table; a strangely assorted trio. | "Ercellent coffee." said Roland, pour- ; ing out for all. "Do you take milk, Ari mand? Well—about our future.'' "Yes?" said Armand. "You have, no i doubt, seme plan " I "Entire obedience to the wishes of the ! Society.*' ' "To be sure, yes. Well, I think those plans can be discussed after we get back to England. Surely you agree with mc? i So much must depend on circumstances. By the way, where is Jacques r" "Apropos of circumstances?" Auburn allowed himself- to ask. "I do not quite follow yon," said the j Frenchman, paling a little. "Perhaps you had rather follow Jacques." "Make allowance for the dullness of my intellect," pleaded Armand. "Well, it you want the brutal truth (truth is apt to be brutal) _"* "Yes?" said Armand. half rising. ' _Ie is out there," Roland interposed, ' pointing to the open porthole. Auburn's raillery stcaek him as hardly in good ] taste. "Ha was -hot dead in last night's

"Jacques? Dead? anied?*' ! "We buried him," said Auburn gran--I ly. ~Tt was an affecting scene.** And \ again he whistled the "Dead March." j "You buried him? Yon?" "Why not? We feared it would he too I much for yow* J "Poor fellow-!" said Armand, in a j melancholy voice. "He was a faithful I servant, M. Auburn." j "I am sure he was most obedient." "Did you—did you—make any prei para, .ions ?'" 1 "Very little. Neither drew nor my- | self is accustomed to the post of un[dertaker_ man. It was haurdly a pleas- ! ant task: not one to be lingered over. "Ah!" said Souvestre, drawing a deep I breath of relief. "Yes, he was a faithful j servant. I shall not easily find his j like.* 5 I "Pedro, of course," said Auburn, j'.hough he is a good fellow, is far too ! clumsy to do Jacques' work." ""Du Berri wQI be inconsolable," put | in Roland. "I fear so indeed; bui here is M. Carre j awake." And indeed at that moment Clement j Carre appeared at the open door. He J wore a gorgeous dressing-gown of Paul jdu Berri'3. which he held np with both I hands in front of him; his face was still I almost entirely without colour, his eyes 1 very large, his nose pinched, and his [ cheeks hollowed, but he smiled upon J the company with cordiality. "Good morning, everybody. I hope you have recovered from your fight. M. 1 Souvestre. Roley, I want some break - I fast." Souvestre looked across at the little j insouciant figure, with a deep, calculating glance. "'-donsieur Carre." he said, "for so it \ will be best to call yon—you have suf- ] fered tyrannical imprisonment at the hands of a government of rebels." "One moment, I beg; if you use so many long words you sound like an anarchist in Hyde Park. However, don't ! let mc interrupt; a pure style is not all;- --; important, of course, except to a poet like myself. Government of rebels—■ ; yes V i "You have regained your freedom." 1 Armand pursued quite calmly, though his eyes flickered with anger, "through jmy assistance." I "The dickens he has!" said Auburn I rather disgusted. "Well, I should have i _ud we had a hand in it—but. however, it is an honour which we aren't particularly anxious to share, are we, Roland :boy ?" But Roland did not answer. He wis i watching Clement Carre, with a light of amusement dawning in his eyes. j "Through my assistance, as head of : the Society of Fire. My society pitied I your miserable position " I "The salt, please. Charles. I_a much ! obliged to your society." "We propose to do more for you than ! that. I speak quite ptainly. for we are I all friends here. You are the rightful 1 heir to the throne of France." ; '-Well, I know that; I could tell you j that.'' '"But without my aid you will be un- | able to regain your rightful position. The society offers to restore you to the 1 throne of your ancestors." "Very good of it. I'm sure; but what, may I ask. does the society intend to ' get it«elf. as a present for a good boy?" Armand'. fare expressed a high degree of bewilderment. Anburn leaned against ; the table struggling with a fit of laugh- : ter. but Roland, who was more atten--1 tive to the nromptings of prudence, bit I his lip and frowned significantly. Cle--1 ment continued to eat his egg. "As a present?" Arma-nd repeated 'blankly. "For a —for you?" Clement followed Auburn's lead, and ! leaned back, speechlessly shaking. As a ! conspirator, he was a trifle impracticj able, his face expressing only an impish ' enjoyment of his own position and Armand".. Catching Roland's eye, how--1 ever, he sat up and fronted Souvestre's darkening brow. "Look here, M. Souvestre," he said, j"I may be only a boy of seventeen, but T am a Bourbon, anil I don't choose to become the puppet of your society—a lav figure set on a throne, and worked by a machinery of Anarchism. For that is what you purpose. I'm to be the figurehead —you steer. _v "est cc pas?" Armand shrugged his shoulders. "Without us you will never be king at aIL" "Very well then. I never will be a ' king at all. That is settled. And now the son of France desires to eat his breakfast in peace; he will dispense '■ with the presence of all his courtiers who are in a bad temper, or who venture to contract their brows and sulk — you can sort yourselves out for yourselves. Some coffee, Charles." His meaning was so obvious, and was pointed by such a decided movement on the part of the Englishmen, that Souvestre. though with a very ill grace, found himself constrained to withdraw. The allies, left alone together for the ; first time, looked at each other for a minute in a silence which—as usual — Auburn broke. "Why aren't we all as prudent as our | dear old Barrels?" he said, laying an affectionate hand on Roland's shoulder. "You've thrown down the gage of battle with a vengeance, my honoured sovereign." "Tt had to come sooner or later. You, Charles, are not a poet, and do not understand the difficulty of raining when you* are a child of the sun." "Sit"on him, Roland; do, or we shall never be serious. Now, look here, you fellows, doa't joke —don't. I implore you! This isn't Bank Holiday; it's a funeral, don't you know." "What I want to know," said Roland, ignoring the incorrigible jester, "is this, are you really and honestly a sou of Saint Louis, and heir to the throne of France, if there was one. or is it a game of bluff?" "Heir to the throne of France?" said Clement. "No, lam the king." And he launched into a strange tale. Most, people have heard of the hapless little Drince who appears in history under the name of Louis XVII., and who was supposed to have died in prison at the age of ten, on June 8. 179"). under the care of the brutal Simon. When in ISIS, Louis XVm. sought for his remains, no trace of his burial could be found; and since then many impostors have arisen claiming to be Louis XVTI., one of whom, like Clement Carre, bore a striking likenesa to the Bourbons; but none of them had evidence to support their story. But Clement Carre had; he possessed documents, which had been tested and pronounced genuine by experts, which followed every step of his narrative, from the escape- of tb_ child-king, through the connivance of his <__oler's wife, down to the birth, 1/ years before, of Charles Louis Clement. commonly known as Clement Carr*. This evidence, such a? it was, was enouirh to convince the two sceptical Englishmen. "So it is really true?" said Ronald, after a pause. "Well, I honestly own I hardly believed it." "Hand and glove with the Royal 1 faxniryr" waa Aaham's irreverent com--1

ment. "Chan-ting sensation, isnt it? Your Majesty might give us a Legion of Honour apiece, I think; ifs the least you can do for us." "Legion of Honour! Nasty Republican decoration! Charles, you are like horse and mule that have no underj standing, and I only wish I had the bit i and bridle." i "One thing I really want to know, I Clement," said Roland gravely, "are I you ambitious 7" j "Awfully. Think of my rondeaux. sestinas, and kyvielles!" "You want to be King?" ; Clement waved him away with a look ; of horror. "Mc reign?" Roland laughed outright. "Then 1 j I don't see what they can do us," he j < said. "We have only to wait a hit, till i j we get near some English port secure ' I one of the boats, and slip away by i night" ! "True for you." said Auburn gaily. "It sounds as easy 13 a cat licks cream; and yet, somehow, IVe a nasty little suspicion in the back of my mind that i we shan't get off quite so easily as all I that comes to. Those men are desperj ate; and 111 be hanged if I think Arj mand means to let us slip between his I fingers without shots fired." i The homeward voyage was not withI out incident. The weather, that had I been so mild and favourable, changed, ! and the sky grew overcast. Storm winds j drove the Eyes of Fire heavily through I long Atlantic surges. Scuvestre'a theo- i } ries, and the practical knowledge and I j skill of the Englishmen, -were sorely j taxed to keep the little yacht afloat. ! They were driven out of the track of commerce, and so gained, by eluding purj suers and evading other vessels, but ! they ran into other dangers, principally • because the yacht was undermanned, j I Dv Berri was useless: he got np and 1 dressed after three days, but he could ! not, or would not, take his turn with • the others. Clement Carre professed to j be equal to a man's part, but his face I gave him the lie; he did more than Sou- | vestre allowed him to. and filled up his j spare time by making friends with the j ship's company. He constituted himself j i Paul's nurse, and spent hour 3 at his I side, treating him with half serious ' condescension. Panl was impressed. He I was the only person on board the Eyes I of Fire to whom Clement's position was ' I real. The boy was a little shy of the : j Englishmen, or rather of Auburn; he j felt that two is company, and so kept j out of their way. They, for their part, ; ! found much to do, and little time for I talking. But the wild weather at last i I abated, and on one afternoon of mild 1 ■ winds and soothed billows, Souvestre ! came up to Roland and said: j "To-morrow we shall see England." I "Hi, Auburn!" shouted Roland. "M. I Souvestre says we shall be in England • to-morrow." I "You mistake," said Souvestre: and a j smile flitted over his face, which to Roj land's eyes boded no good to him and j i his. "I said we should see it." >. j Auburn leant against the mast, sway- j ing his pliant body to the easy motion ! , of the yacht. Hi= keen eye travelled ! over Souvestre's face, and thence to j Roland's. ! "Is it not time, my gallant friend," he said, '"that the distinguished Paul and ! yourself gave us the tip—put us up tc : snuff?" "You are pleased to be impertinent,'" said Paul's voice behind him. "A thousand pardons," said Auburn, gravely. "I did not see you. Where did you spring from? Down below?" j "I have this instant come np. hearing j voices." i "Really? I did not know you could I hear down there. DiSicilis ascensus, j eh. Roland? Hope you aren't tired?" "Shut up!"' said Roland's lips in in-, audible movement. Dv Berri had long since given up try- ' ing to make out Auburn's meaning when ; he talked slang. \ j "Well," "id Souvestre. after a pause.] 1 "our plans are simple. Clement Carre j j must go with us. We. must first ?et ! money from the Legitimists: then re- ' J move the President: and—but I need j \ not weary you with details." j "There's only one flaw." said Roland, i "and that's Clement Carre. He does not , I care for " j I '"Treasons, strategies, and revolu- j J lions," wound up Auburn politely. ! 'T am afraid," said Souvestre, "that j : he must acquire the taste." \ "You can't compel him." ! "Oh, yes." "Fiddle!" said Auburn. "He won't conspire, and you can't make him: not | if you were to feed him on skulls of \ gore." i "Oh. I think we can persuade him to ! join us. And, messieurs, what of you? j You will not join as too?" , "Certainly not. That was all in the bond," said Roland. "The bond? What bond?" j "The bond we made with you when we ! promised to aid you." "The bond you made with us when ; you ware, in process of being strangled ! oy Jacques? The bond Mr Auburn made i -with us when he was on the brink of ' death by drowning? I do not think, Mr Carew. jbat you quite realise your posi- j tion. Your life." said Souvestre, imperiously, "you hold as oar free gift. It is ! not for you to make conditions." ' "And I don't think that you quite realise the position either." said Anburn in a tone of grim amusement. "Why, you shrimp. Paul! don't you' know that I could send you down to j join the other shrimps in a happy family party with one hand behind my back? Souvestre, do you think yon could stand j much chance against Carew?" "Threats! threats!" cried Souvestre, ] and he whipped out his revolver. Auburn : leaped aside, and the bullet went into ! the mast some six feet above the deck. \ Auburn. Roland, and Paul were unarmed. Souvestre. who had probably fore- , seen what would happen, carried two j revolvers, both loaded. There followed ! a kind of game of peep-bo about tlie deck. Why they were not hit Poland ' and Auburn did not know; but the mo- j tion of the yacht spoilt Souvestre's aim, : and the shots flew wide. They would ! have gone below and armed themselves, but; dared not. lor Paul had early made a dash at the stairs, and was probably waiting armed at the foot. Suddenly Auburn noticed that the skylight was ! ! open. He gripped the edge with both I ! hands, swung himself over, and went j down into the cabin, snatched up his I I two revolvers, and ran out in time to ! j see Roland caught fairly between two I fires. He was half-way down the com- ' j panion. standing sideways; above him j j stood Souvestre. and below him Paul, j i both armed, and playing with him for 1 the moment. They had forgotten Au- ' burn, who sprang at dv Berri from behind, and twisted away his revolver. He would not shoot.—because Paul was wounded, or because he was attacking from behind—"or some one of those strange instinctive reasons which defy analysis. Roland saw it, and made one step to tbe bottom of the companion, i : in doing which he very naturally tripped and fell. Souvestre saw it, and emptied ' the last two shots of his revolver point blank at tb.m, careless of wounding

Panl. Auburn caught Roland by Yds arm and by the hair of his head, dragged him bodily into tie calm, and shut the dooT"By Jove J" said Auburn, as he fell into a chair, '"'that was a neat thing. I say, Roland, you're always in the wars. ; Are you hurt now, old boy f j "No—yes—not worth speaking of." j said Roland, picking himself op by inches. '•What on earth happens next?" ! "What in Hades you'd better say. if I you want an expletive. It's a miracle i you're not dead. I gave yon up when. I saw you on the stairs." i "But, look here, this is a deadly feud. 'They'll shoot us on sight now." "Well, my dear soul, Fm not very ! keen on chumming up with these interi esting murderers. I know they're : friends of yours, but personally I don't ] regret what has happened from the point jof view of losing their society." j "You had the best of that last scene, j you know. My nerves feel a bit shaky. I ) don't mind dyins, but I hate waiting to | die." "Souvestre can look the tiger, too— exactly like a great eat with an over- ' grown mouse. All the same, we've spoilt | bis little game." "If he were alone, it would be all | right," said Roland, sitting gingerly on j the edge of the table, and looking as if Ihe were not quite sura that he had still ] got all his legs and arms. j "Well, we are alone. Yon surely dorf t ! want to tie those fascinating Italians to I the heels of your chariot?" I "Clement Carre." j "What about him? My dear Roland, I j wouldn't, if I could, clear out of this 1 beastly hole and leave you in it: but then you're but a child in the ways of ' his way about pretty nearly as well as I i his way about prety "nearly as well as I j do. - ' "He's very young." "Young? You can call a man young : who for IT years has known himself to :be King of France? What a truly insular idea! Really, Roland, if they turned you out to grass they'd never find you again; i you'd be such an exact match." j "Sometimes I do think you're the big!gest fool in creation, Auburn!" 1 "A bit touched in the temper." said Auburn, sazing dreamily at the calm ceil- | ing. "Just a little short —oh. yes, I i think so, it was a rise, a decided " I A flash and a report ended the senI tence. and while the cabin filled with ! smoke. Roland felt the glass of the sky- . light over his head fall in a shower of j splinters all round him. (To be continued on Saturday).