accordance with etiquette to a formal dinner-party. Cerise, following close, hung no doubt on every word that came from his lips, but it must be confessed the conversation was somewhat frivolous for so important a juncture.
"I little thought," said the Captain, performing another courtly bow, "that it was Madame la Marquise whom I should have the honour of escorting to-night out of this unpleasant little fracas. Had I known madame was on the island, she will believe that I should have come ashore and paid my respects to her much sooner."
"You could not have arrived at a more opportune moment, monsieur," answered the lady, whose strong physical energy and habitual presence of mind were now rapidly reasserting themselves. "You have always been welcome to my receptions; never more so than to-night. You found it a little hot, I fear, and a good deal crowded. The latter disadvantage I was remedying, to the best of my abilities, when you announced yourself. The society, too, was hardly so polite as I could have wished. Oh, monsieur!" she added, in a changed and trembling voice, suddenly discarding the tone of banter she had assumed, "where should we have been now, and what must have become of us, but for you? You, to whom we had rather owe our lives than to any man in the world!"
He was thinking of Cerise. He accepted the kind words gratefully, happily; but, like all generous minds, he made light of the service he had rendered.
"You are too good to say so, madame," was his answer. "It seemed to me you were making a gallant defence enough when I came in. One man had already fallen before your aim, and I would not have given much for the life of that ugly giant whom I took the liberty of running through the body without asking permission, although he is probably, like myself, a slave of your own."
The Marquise laughed. "Confess, monsieur," said she, "that I have a steady hand on the pistol. Do you know, I never shot at anything but a playing-card till to-night. It is horrible to kill a man, too. It makes me shudder when I think of it. And yet, at the moment, I had no pity, no scruples—I can even imagine that I experienced something of the wild excitement which makes a soldier's trade
