room and you are in his confidence. You know the part he has played in all this business about M. de Cobalt. Find at once and give to me every paper that concerns it."
"I know nothing, monsieur, I swear; and there are no papers. I'll swear it on the holy crucifix."
"If you keep me dallying in this way the next oath you take about it will be in hell," growled Pascal sternly.
"I declare on my soul" But before he could say more Pascal had him by the throat and shook him till his teeth rattled and the stars came out in myriads in the firmament of his dazed sight.
"Now perhaps you're frightened enough to tell the truth," he cried, with a fierce oath, as he flung him back on the seat. The spy fell doubled up against the table and as Pascal jerked him up again he heard the crackle of papers under his doublet.
"So you have them on you, you sly devil, have you? Strip, to the skin, and let me see what's there. If I play valet for you you'll find little play in it, on my oath."
"I'll tell you all, monsieur," gasped Dauban, faintly. "Let me but get my breath."
"I want no more of your lies. Give me the papers."
"They are there," and Dauban pointed to a desk.
"Thank you, master liar, but first I'll have those on you. Quick or" and another threatening gesture finished the sentence.
Slowly and with a groan of anguish, Dauban took out some of the papers he had concealed in his clothes, and laid them on the table.
"The rest," said Pascal, putting these out of the spy's reach. "Strip and don't try my temper farther, or I'll not answer for myself."
Trembling so that his aching teeth chattered, Dauban obeyed the command; and as each garment was drawn off Pascal examined it for any concealed documents, and a quick glance at what he found showed him the nature
