



Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer





UNDER THE RED ROBE

By Stanley J. Weyman



Transcriber's Note:

In this Etext, text in italics has been written in capital letters.

Many French words in the text have accents, etc. which have been
omitted.




CONTENTS

     CHAPTER I.              AT ZATON'S

     CHAPTER II.             AT THE GREEN PILLAR

     CHAPTER III.            THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD

     CHAPTER IV.             MADAM AND MADEMOISELLE

     CHAPTER V.              REVENGE

     CHAPTER VI.             UNDER THE PIC DU MIDI

     CHAPTER VII.            A MASTER STROKE

     CHAPTER VIII.           A MASTER STROKE--Continued

     CHAPTER IX.             THE QUESTION

     CHAPTER X.              CLON

     CHAPTER XI.             THE ARREST

     CHAPTER XII.            THE ROAD TO PARIS

     CHAPTER XIII.           AT THE FINGER-POST

     CHAPTER XIV.            ST MARTIN'S EVE

     CHAPTER XV.             ST MARTIN'S SUMMER




UNDER THE RED ROBE



CHAPTER I. AT ZATON'S

'Marked cards!'

There were a score round us when the fool, little knowing the man with
whom he had to deal, and as little how to lose like a gentleman, flung
the words in my teeth. He thought, I'll be sworn, that I should storm
and swear and ruffle it like any common cock of the hackle. But that was
never Gil de Berault's way. For a few seconds after he had spoken I
did not even look at him. I passed my eye instead--smiling, BIEN
ENTENDU--round the ring of waiting faces, saw that there was no one
except De Pombal I had cause to fear; and then at last I rose and looked
at the fool with the grim face I have known impose on older and wiser
men.

'Marked cards, M. l'Anglais?' I said, with a chilling sneer. 'They are
used, I am told, to trap players--not unbirched schoolboys.'

'Yet I say that they are marked!' he replied hotly, in his queer foreign
jargon. 'In my last hand I had nothing. You doubled the stakes. Bah,
sir, you knew! You have swindled me!'

'Monsieur is easy to swindle--when he plays with a mirror behind him,' I
answered tartly.

At that there was a great roar of laughter, which might have been
heard in the street, and which brought to the table everyone in the
eating-house whom his voice had not already attracted. But I did not
relax my face. I waited until all was quiet again, and then waving aside
two or three who stood between us and the entrance, I pointed gravely to
the door.

'There is a little space behind the church of St Jacques, M.
l'Etranger,' I said, putting on my hat and taking my cloak on my arm.
'Doubtless you will accompany me thither?'

He snatched up his hat, his face burning with shame and rage.

'With pleasure