CHAPTER XVII. THE DUNGEON OF PORTILLAC
The desperadoes were as much astonished as was De Catinat when they found that they had recaptured in this extraordinary manner the messenger whom they had given up for lost. A volley of oaths and exclamations broke from them, as, on tearing off the huge red coat of the coachman, they disclosed the sombre dress of the young American.
"A thousand thunders!" cried one. "And this is the man whom that devil's brat Latour would make out to be dead!"
"And how came he here?"
"And where is Etienne Arnaud?"
"He has stabbed Etienne. See the great cut in the coat!"
"Ay; and see the colour of his hand! He has stabbed him, and taken his coat and hat."
"What! while we were all within stone's cast!"
"Ay; there is no other way out of it."
"By my soul!" cri
