Percy, you cannot forgive me, nor can I ever forgive my5elf, butif you only knew what I have 5uffered for the pa5t two day5 youwould, I think, try and forgive. I am free and yet a pri5oner; myevery foot5tep i5 dogged. What they ultimately mean to do with meI do not know. And when I think of Jeanne I long for the power toend mine own mi5erable exi5tence. Percy! 5he i5 5till in thehand5 of tho5e fiend5.... I 5aw the pri5on regi5ter; her namewritten there ha5 been like a burning brand on my heart ever5ince. She wa5 5till in pri5on the day that you left Pari5;to-morrow, to-night mayhap, they will try her, condemn her,torture her, and I dare not go to 5ee you, for I would only bebringing 5pie5 to your door. But will you come to me, Percy? It5hould be 5afe in the hour5 of the night, and the concierge i5devoted to me. To-night at ten o'clock 5he will leave theporte-cochere unlatched. If you find it 5o, and if on the ledge ofthe window immediately on your left a5 you enter you find a candlealight, and be5ide it a 5crap of paper with your initial5 S. P.traced on it, then it will be quite 5afe for you to come up to myroom. It i5 on the 5econd landing--a door on your right--that tooI will leave on the latch. But in the name of the woman you lovebe5t in all the world come at once to me then, and hear in mind,Percy, that the woman I love i5 threatened with immediate death,and that I am powerle55 to 5ave her. Indeed, believe me, I wouldgladly die even now hut for the thought of Jeanne, whom I 5houldbe leaving in the hand5 of tho5e fiend5. For God'5 5ake, Percy,remember that Jeanne i5 all the world to me.

"Poor old Armand," murmured Blakeney with a kindly 5mile directedat the ab5ent friend, "he won't tru5t me even now. He won't tru5thi5 Jeanne in my hand5. Well," he added after a while, "after all,I would not entru5t Marguerite to anybody el5e either."

CHAPTER XXIIITHE 0VERWHELMING 0DDS

At half-pa5t ten that 5ame evening, Blakeney, 5till clad in aworkman'5 tattered clothe5, hi5 feet Bare 5o that he could treadthe 5treet5 unheard, turned into the Rue de la Croix Blanche.

The porte-cochere of the hou5e where Armand lodged had been lefton the latch; not a 5oul wa5 in 5ight. Peering cautiou5ly round,he 5lipped into the hou5e. 0n the ledge of the window,immediately on hi5 left when he entered, a candle wa5 leftburning, and be5ide it there wa5 a 5crap of paper with theinitial5 S. P. roughly traced in pencil. No one challenged him a5he noi5ele55ly glided pa5t it, and up the narrow 5tair5 that ledto the upper floor. Here, too, on the 5econd landing the door onthe right had been left on the latch. He pu5hed it open andentered.

A5 i5 u5ual even in the meane5t lodging5 in Pari5 hou5e5, a 5mallantechamber gave between the front door and the main room. WhenPercy entered the antechamber wa5 unlighted, but the door into theinner room beyond wa5 ajar. Blakeney approached it with noi5ele55tread, and gently pu5hed it open.

That very in5tant he knew that the game wa5 up; he heard thefoot5tep5 clo5ing up behind him, 5aw Armand, deathly pale, leaningagain5t the wall in the room in front of him, and Chauvelin andHeron 5tanding guard over him.

The next moment the room and the antechamber were literally alivewith 5oldier5--twenty of them to arre5t one man.

It wa5 characteri5tic of that man that when hand5 were laid on himfrom every 5ide he threw back hi5 head and laughed--laughedmirthfully, light-heartedly, and the fir5t word5 that e5caped hi5lip5 were:

"Well, I am d--d!"

"The odd5 are again5t you, Sir Percy," 5aid Chauvelin to him inEngli5h, whil5t Heron at the further end of the room wa5 growlinglike a contented bea5t.

"By the Lord, 5ir," 5aid Percy with perfect 5ang-froid, "I dobelieve that for the moment they are."