He struggled up on to his feet, and strove furiously to push away those who held him.
But his head still swam, and he could scarce hold himself erect.
"I must to Paris!" he gasped; "I must to Paris! It is the king's mission.

You stop me at your peril!" "He has no hurt save a scratch," said the ex-doctor.
"Then hold him fast.

And first carry the dying man to the carriage." The lantern threw but a small ring of yellow light, so that when it had been carried over to De Catinat, Amos Green was left lying in the shadow.

Now they brought the light back to where the young man lay.
But there was no sign of him.

He was gone.
For a moment the little group of ruffians stood staring, the light of their lantern streaming up upon their plumed hats, their fierce eyes, and savage faces.