across the face with the flat side of his sword. Candide in an instant drew his rapier and plunged it up to the hilt in the Jesuit’s body; but in pulling it out reeking hot, he burst into tears.

“Good God!” cried he, “I have killed my old master, my friend, my brother-in-law. I am the best man in the world, and yet I have already killed three men, and of these three, two were priests.”

Cacambo, who was standing sentry near the door of the arbor, instantly ran up.

“Nothing remains,” said his master, “but to sell our lives as dearly as possible; they will undoubtedly look into the arbor; we must die sword in hand.”

Cacambo, who had seen many of this kind of adventures, was not discouraged. He stripped the Baron of his Jesuit’s