"Gag him, Ravelle," the captain commanded with an angry flush.
"I demand to be taken before M. de Belin!" Lucas shouted.
The next moment the soldier had twisted a handkerchief about his mouth.
"Ready?" the captain asked of Gaspard, who had come back just in time to aid in the throttling. "Move on, then."
He led the way out, the two dragoons following with their prisoner. And this time Lucas's fertile wits failed him. He did not slip from his captors' fingers between the room and the street. He was deposited in the big black coach that had aroused my wonder. Louis cracked his whip and off they rumbled.
I laughed all the way back to the Hôtel St. Quentin.
XIX
To the Hôtel de Lorraine.
