It was Antoine Picard, the gigantic
and faithful servitor of the Lannes family.
"Antoine! Antoine!" cried John. "How did you come here? I thought you
were in Munich!"
"It seems, your honor, that I'm here at the right moment. His bullet
would certainly have found your heart had not my club descended upon his
head at the very instant that his finger touched the trigger. He'll
never stir again."
"But Antoine, it's you, yourself! It doesn't seem real that you should
be here at such a time!"
"It's none other than Antoine Picard, your honor, and he never struck a
truer or more timely blow. They were to hold me a prisoner in Munich,
but I escaped. I did not return to France. I could never desert
Mademoiselle Julie, and I followed. My size drew their attention, but in
one way or another I kept down suspicion or escaped them. I traced
Mademoiselle Julie and my daughter to the great castle and then to the
lodge on the mountain. I saw the traitor who lies so justly dead here
talking with German troops, and I knew that there was need for me to
hasten. In the night I stole the horse of a Uhlan and galloped to
Obenstein.
"I approached the inn just in time to see the traitor come forth, and
knowing that he was bent upon some devil's work I followed him to the
signal tower. I did not see you until he started back and then I bided
my time.
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