Volume I Part 20 (1/2)

”Now, good-night,” said Jacob, putting the e his pistol fro forward, and, seizing the pistol, he clutched Madalars under the arm as if she were a child, and ran out of the roolars at once realized the situation While Ansellars, as a splendid horsewoo of the door, fired a shot into the crohich surrounded him, and likewise bounded on to the back of the horse The aniht cut with the knife Madalars still held in her hand, it flew like the wind, bearing the two far from their pursuers

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MOTHER

Benedetto, who had been told the way to Beaussuet by Ansel it fly over the stones and pavee; the horse was covered with blood and foa horse and rider flew along, and when the horse finally broke down, the first houses in the village had been reached

Benedetto ju horse; he only thought of hiht Anselmo had fallen into the hands of the people at Oliolles That his companion would not betray him he knew, but the coachman had seen him and he would be pursued There was no way out of it He et possession of the million, and then try to reach the coast

Benedetto recognized the vicarage at the first glance, as his mother had described it accurately to him An olive-tree stood inside the wall near the entrance Benedetto took between his teeth the knife Ansel himself over the wall and thence on to the -sill The wretch hesitated a moment before he broke the pane

Suppose his ht, ”it will be her own fault”

With a quickout a small thieves'-lantern and soht and looked around The bed was empty

”The mistral delayed her,”his knife into the closet, he opened the door, and was soon in possession of the portfolio He put it on the table and tried to open the lock with his knife But in vain; it would not open

At this moment his sharp ear detected the sound of horses' hoofs

”The pursuers,” he muttered, and for a moment he was dazed

He collected hiht, yet did not desire to lose thethe portfolio in his hand, he opened theand was about to spring out when he paused Unless he had the use of both of his hands, he could not hope to reach the wall, and he did not think of leaving his plunder behind him Now he heard voices

His pursuers must have halted under the olive-tree; a horse whinnied, there was no chance of escape! He ran to the door It was shut tight, and now it recurred to him that his mother had told him she carried the key in her pocket

What was he to do? Alive he would not be captured, and the bandit who hesitated to draw his knife against his pursuers was a coward He himself dreaded death, and he therefore carefully tried to remove the lock with his knife Perhaps he could escape anyhow!

He had just re up the stairs His pursuers were at his heels

With the portfolio under his arm and his knife held aloof in his hand, he waited A key was inserted in the lock now, the door opened, and a figure entered the room

But it did not proceed far Benedetto's knife sank down and a hot stream of blood squirted into the face of the murderer, who had struck his victim in the breast At the same moment Benedetto felt himself seized by a hand of iron and throhile a well-known voice cried in his ear:

”Miserable scoundrel, it was your mother--your mother, and you knew it!”

The man who said this in a voice of thunder was none other than Anselraced his cloth, but as innocent in comparison to his comrade Benedetto