"My life is in your hands, sir; you have my word; I can do no more."
"That is true, my lord; but then, in your interest, warn your slaves that the slightest act against me, on their part, will cost your life, for I have sworn, also, that I will carry you away, dead or living."
"It will not be my fault, sir, if you do not keep your word; come on." And the chevalier and the colonel advanced toward the house.
Rutler held the arm of Croustillac under his left arm, and had his hand constantly on his dagger; not that he doubted the word of his prisoner, but the slaves at Devil's Cliff might wish to rescue their master.
Croustillac and Rutler were not more than a few steps from the house when from an obscure path a woman advanced dressed in white. The colonel stopped, pressed firmly the arm of his prisoner, and said aloud, "Who is this? My lord, warn this woman not to cry out."
"It is Blue Beard! I am lost; she will scream like a peacock, and all will be discovered," thought Croustillac. To his great astonishment the woman paused and did not speak. The Gascon said, "Who is it, then?"
"Is it so dark that my lord cannot recognize Mirette?" said the well-known voice of Blue Beard.
Croustillac was speechless with astonishment. Blue Beard also called him my lord, and assumed the name of Mirette! "Zounds!" he said to himself, "I understand nothing, nothing at all; all becomes more and more obscure; all the same, hold steady and play out the game."
"Who is this woman?" said the colonel, in a low tone.
"She is the confidential maid of my wife," responded the chevalier.