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diff --git a/13312-h/13312-h.htm b/13312-h/13312-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0bff06d --- /dev/null +++ b/13312-h/13312-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10362 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of -The Light That Lures- by Percy J. Brebner. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: .75em + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 15%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13312 ***</div> + +<h1><i>The</i><br /> +LIGHT<br /> +<i>that</i><br /> +LURES</h1> + +<h4><i>by</i></h4> + +<h3>PERCY J. BREBNER.</h3> + + +<p style='text-align: center;'>1911</p> + + +<p style='text-align: center;'><i>The English edition of this book was published under +the title of "A Gentleman of Virginia"</i> +</p> + +<br /> + +<a href='#PROLOGUE'><b>PROLOGUE</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_I'><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_II'><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_III'><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_IV'><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_V'><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_VI'><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_VII'><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_IX'><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_X'><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XI'><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XII'><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XV'><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XVI'><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XVII'><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII'><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XIX'><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XX'><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXI'><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXII'><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII'><b>CHAPTER XXIII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV'><b>CHAPTER XXIV</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXV'><b>CHAPTER XXV</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXVI'><b>CHAPTER XXVI</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXVII'><b>CHAPTER XXVII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXVIII'><b>CHAPTER XXVIII</b></a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXIX'><b>CHAPTER XXIX</b></a><br /> +<a href='#EPILOGUE'><b>EPILOGUE</b></a><br /> + +<br /> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='PROLOGUE'></a><h2>PROLOGUE</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>ACROSS THE WATERS OF THE BAY</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Seated on a green hummock, his knees drawn up, his elbows resting on his +knees and his head supported in his open hands, a boy sat very still and +preoccupied, gazing straight into the world before him, yet conscious of +little beyond the visions conjured up by his young mind. His were dim +visions begot of the strenuous times in which he lived, and which were +the staple subject of conversation of all those with whom he came in +contact, yet his shadowy dreams had something of the past in them, and +more, far more, of that future which to youth must ever be all +important. But this young dreamer was not as dreamers often are, with +muscle subservient to brain, the physical less highly developed than the +mental powers; on the contrary, he was a lad well knit together, his +limbs strong and supple, endurance and health unmistakable, a lad who +must excel in every manly exercise and game. Perhaps it was this very +superiority over his fellows which, for the time being, at any rate, had +made him a dreamer. While other boys, reproducing in their games that +which was happening about them, fought mimic battles, inflicted and +suffered mimic death, experienced terrible siege in some small copse +which to their imagination stood for a beleaguered city, or carried some +hillock by desperate and impetuous assault, this boy, their master in +running, in swimming, in wrestling, in sitting a horse as he galloped +freely, was not content with mimicry, but dreamed of real deeds in a +real future.</p> + +<p>It was a fair scene of which this boy, for the moment, seemed to be the +centre. Before him lay the great expanse of Chesapeake Bay scintillating +in the light of the afternoon, a sail here and there catching the +sunlight and standing out clearly from a background of distant haze. A +wide creek ran sinuously into the land, the deep blue of its channel +distinct from the shallow waters and the swamps from which a startled +crane rose like an arrow shot across the vault of the sky. To the right, +surrounded by its gardens and orchards, stood a house, long, low, large +and rambling, the more solid successor to the rough wooden edifice which +had been among the first to rise when this state of Virginia had become +a colony for cavaliers from England. Flowers trailed over the wide porch +and shone in patches of brilliant color about the garden, alternating +with the long-cast shadows of cedar, cypress, and yellow pine; fruit +turned to opulent red and purple ripeness in the orchards; and the song +of birds, like subdued music, came from tree and flower-lined border. In +close proximity to the house Indian corn was growing, and a wide area of +wheat ripened to harvest, while beyond, like a vast green ocean, +stretched the great tobacco plantation, with here and there the dark +blot of a drying shed like a rude ark resting upon it. In the far +distance, bounding the estate, a line of dark woods seemed to shut out +the world and wrap it in impenetrable mystery. Over all this great +estate the boy sitting on the hummock was known as the young master, but +he was not dreaming of a future which should have wealth in it, +pleasure, all that the heart of a man can wish for; but of toil and +hardship bravely borne, of fighting days and camp fires, of honor such +as heroes attain to.</p> + +<p>He had been born in stirring times. For more than five years past war +had been in the land, the struggle for freedom against a blind and +tyrannical government. It had been one thing to make the Declaration of +Independence, it had been quite another matter to carry it into effect. +Early success had been followed by disasters. Washington had been +defeated on Long Island; his heroic endeavor to save Philadelphia by the +battle of Brandywine against an enemy far superior in numbers had +failed; yet a month later a large British force had been compelled to +surrender at Saratoga. These fighters for freedom seemed to know defeat +only as a foundation upon which to build victory. England might send +fresh armies and fresh fleets, but there were men on land and sea ready +to oppose them, ready to die for the freedom they desired and the +independence they had proclaimed; and it was only a few months ago that +the war had been virtually ended by the surrender of Lord Cornwallis at +Yorktown.</p> + +<p>Colonel Barrington had taken an active and honorable part in the +conflict, yet in the beginning of the trouble, like many another man of +his class, he had been for peace, for arbitration, for arrangement if +possible. His fathers had been among the earliest settlers in Virginia, +representatives of an English family, whose roots stretched far back +into history. They had come to rest on this very spot of earth, had +raised their first rough wooden dwelling here, calling it Broadmead, +after the name of their home in England. Love for the old country was +still alive in Colonel Barrington, and it was only after grave +deliberation that he had drawn the sword, convinced that he drew it for +the right. Doubtless there were some in this great conflict who were +self-seeking, but this was certainly not the case with Henry Barrington. +He had much to lose, nothing personal to win which seemed to him of any +consequence. Broadmead he loved. He had been born there. In due time he +had brought home to it his beautiful young wife, daughter of a French +family in Louisiana, and until this upheaval the years had passed +happily, almost uneventfully, yet bringing with them increasing +prosperity.</p> + +<p>The boy, dreaming dreams and stretching out toward an ideal, might well +have taken his father for model, but, while reverencing him and knowing +him to be a great and good man, his young imagination had been fired by +a different type of hero, the man whose restless and adventurous spirit +had brought him four years ago to fight as a volunteer in the cause of +freedom; who had come again only a year since and had done much to bring +about the surrender of Lord Cornwallis; the man who, only the other day, +had been publicly thanked by General Washington speaking for the nation +he had helped to found; the man who was at this moment his father's +guest—the Marquis de Lafayette. There was much of the French spirit in +the boy, inherited from his mother, and to every word the Marquis had +uttered he had listened eagerly, painting his hero in colors that were +too bright and too many, perhaps. An hour ago he had stolen out of the +house to this hummock, a favorite spot of his, to dream over all he had +heard and of the future.</p> + +<p>His eyes were fixed upon a distant white sail, sun touched, which +lessened far out across the bay, which presently became a point of light +and was then hidden in the haze of the horizon. That was the way of +dreams surely, the road which led to the realization of hope. That ship +might go on and on through sunlight and storm, through mist and clear +weather, and some time, how long a time the boy did not know, it would +reach another land, France perchance, surely the best of all lands, +since it bred such men as the Marquis de Lafayette.</p> + +<p>"Dreaming, Richard?"</p> + +<p>The grass had deadened the sound of approaching footsteps and the boy +rose hastily. His face flushed as he recognized his visitor.</p> + +<p>He was a thin man, still young, with an earnest face which at once +arrested attention. It was far more that of a visionary than was the +boy's, a difficult countenance to read and understand. If, for a moment, +the neatness and precision of his dress suggested a man of idle leisure, +a courtier and little more, there quickly followed a conviction that +such an estimate of his character was a wrong one. Dreamer he might be, +in a sense, but he was also a man of action. The spare frame was full of +energy, there was determination in the face. This was a man who knew +nothing of fear, whom danger would only bring stronger courage; a man +who would press forward to his goal undaunted by whatever difficulties +stood in the way. He was an idealist rather than a dreamer, one who had +set up a standard in his life and, right or wrong, would live his life +true to that standard. He was a man to trust, even though he might not +inspire love, a leader for a forlorn hope, a personality which brought +confidence to all who came in touch with it. His eyes, kindly but +penetrating, were fixed upon the lad to whom he was a hero. He was the +famous Marquis de Lafayette.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I was—I was thinking."</p> + +<p>"Great thoughts, I warrant, for so young a mind. Let us sit down. This +is a famous seat of yours, a good place to dream in with as fair a slice +of the world's beauty to gaze upon as could well be found. Come, tell me +your dreams."</p> + +<p>The boy sat down beside him, but remained silent.</p> + +<p>"Shall I help you?" said the Marquis. "Ah, my lad, I know that it is +difficult to tell one's dreams, they are often such sacred things; but +your good mother has been telling me something about you. We are of the +same blood, she and I, so we talk easily and tell each other secrets, as +two members of a large family will. She tells me, Richard, that you have +thought a great deal about me."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, sir, I have."</p> + +<p>"And made something of a hero of me; is that it?"</p> + +<p>"Would that anger you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Anger me! Why, my lad, the man who can become a child's hero should be +proud of it. There must be something good mixed with his common clay for +him to achieve so much. I am glad and proud, as proud as I am of General +Washington's thanks the other day; you need not look at me with such +disbelief in your eyes, for I only say what is true. So now tell me your +dreams."</p> + +<p>"They are only half dreams," said the boy slowly, but to-day they seem +clearer. They have one end and aim, to be like you, to fight for the +oppressed, to fight and to conquer."</p> + +<p>"The dreams are worthy, Richard, but set yourself a higher standard. +That you think so much of me almost brings a blush to my cheek, lad, for +I am a poor hero. Yet, there is this in common between us, I too, have +had such dreams—have them still. I am striving to make my dreams come +true. So much every man can do. You have, or you will have presently, +your duty set straight before you. Duty is like that; it never lies in +ambush. Along that path of duty you must march and never turn aside. It +is a strange path, for though it is distinct and clear that all may +recognize it, yet for each individual it seems to have a different +direction. It leads some to mighty deeds which must echo round the +world; some it will bring to poverty, obscurity, disgrace perchance, but +these are heroes, remember, as the others are, greater heroes I think, +since no man knows them or cheers them on. You have not thought of such +heroes, Richard?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"I thought not. That is why I came to talk to you. I cannot tell what +your future is to be, I do not know in what way you are destined to +travel, but duty may not call upon you to wear the sword or ride in the +forefront of a charge. This country has just had a glorious birth, a +rebirth to freedom. Your father has helped to fight for it; you may be +called upon to work peaceably for it."</p> + +<p>"I hope, sir, my duty will mean the sword and the charge."</p> + +<p>"Your countrymen are probably glad to have peace," he answered.</p> + +<p>"But this is not the only land where men are cruelly treated and would +fight for freedom," the boy returned. "You came here to help us against +the English. Some day may I not journey to help others?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps."</p> + +<p>"My mother is French, therefore I am partly French. I love my father, +but I am more French than English. I should love to fight for France," +and the boy looked up eagerly into his companion's face.</p> + +<p>"So that is the real secret out at last," said Lafayette, with a light +laugh. "You would love to fight for France."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; and it makes you laugh. I have not told it to any one else; I +knew they would laugh."</p> + +<p>"But you expected better things of me. Forgive me, lad, I was not +laughing at you; yet you must learn not to mind the laughter of others. +Whenever a man is in earnest there will always be some to ridicule what +they term his folly. He is something of a hero who can stand being +laughed at."</p> + +<p>"Sir, did you not say to my father only to-day as you sat at dinner in +the hall, that France was groaning under oppression, and there was no +knowing what would be the end of it?"</p> + +<p>"I did, Richard, I did."</p> + +<p>"Then, Monsieur de Lafayette, it might be that some day I might cross +the sea to help France."</p> + +<p>The Marquis laughed softly and patted the boy's head.</p> + +<p>"So that is your dream. I hope freedom may be bought without blood, +but—"</p> + +<p>"But you do not think so, sir."</p> + +<p>"Why should you say that?"</p> + +<p>"Partly because of the way you say it, partly because I have been told +that you are farseeing. I have listened so eagerly to all the stories +told about you."</p> + +<p>"If such a fight for freedom came in France, it would be far more +terrible than the war here," and the Marquis made the statement rather +to himself than to the boy.</p> + +<p>"Then it may be my duty to come and help you," said Richard.</p> + +<p>"If the opportunity should come, see that your adventurous spirit does +not make it your duty whether it be so or not. There are some years to +pass before these young limbs of yours are fit for fighting, or this +brain of yours has to make a decision. You have a good father and +mother, they will guide you. Dream your dreams, and I doubt not, my +friend Richard Barrington will become a hero to many. Are you coming +back to the house with me? Within an hour I am leaving."</p> + +<p>"You are going back to France?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It is a wonderful land, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"To a true man his own country is always a wonderful land."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I am mostly French," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"No, lad. You are an American, a Virginian. Be proud of it."</p> + +<p>"I am proud of it, sir; yet a Virginian gentleman might fight for +France."</p> + +<p>"And France might be glad to claim his sword. Yes, that is true. Well, +lad, come in peace or in war, do not fail to make inquiry in Paris for +Lafayette. He shall return you something of the courtesy which has been +shown to him in this country and in your father's house."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, oh, thank you a thousand times. I can talk about it to my +mother now. She shall share my dreams."</p> + +<p>As he went toward the house he looked back across the waters of the bay. +Yet another sail, with the sun upon it, was fading slowly into the +distant haze.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE MAN BY THE ROADSIDE</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>A solemn twilight, heavy and oppressive, was closing a dull, slumberous +day. It was late in the year for such weather. Not a breath stirred in +the trees by the roadside, not a movement in hedge or ditch; some plague +might have swept across the land, leaving it stricken and desolate, even +the cottages here and there showed no lights and appeared to be +deserted. The road ran straight between ill-conditioned and neglected +fields, and for an hour or more no traveler had passed this way, yet it +was a high road, and at a few miles distance was Paris. Yonder toward +the northeast lay the city, the twilight heavy over it too, but it was +not silent. The throb of human passion and anger beat in it with quick, +hammering strokes, and men and women, looking into one another's eyes, +either laughed while they sang and danced madly, or shrank away, afraid +of being seen, fearing to ask questions.</p> + +<p>The twilight had grown deeper, and the horizon was narrowing quickly +with the coming of night, when the sound of horses' hoofs broke the +silence and two riders came rapidly round a bend into the long stretch +of straight road, traveling in the direction of Paris. They rode side by +side as comrades and as men with a purpose, a definite destination which +must be reached at all hazards, yet at a casual glance it would appear +that they could have little in common. One was an elderly man with +grizzled hair, face deeply lined, sharp eyes which were screwed up and +half closed as if he were constantly trying to focus things at a +distance. He was tall, chiefly accounted for by his length of leg, and +as thin as a healthy man well could be. His horsemanship had no easy +grace about it, and a casual observer might have thought that he was +unused to the saddle. There would have been a similar opinion about +anything this man did; he never seemed to be intended for the work he +was doing, yet it was always well done. He was a silent man, too, and +his thoughts were seldom expressed in his face.</p> + +<p>His companion was a young man, twenty-five or twenty-six, although his +face might suggest that he was somewhat older. His was a strong face, +cleanly cut, intelligent, purposeful, yet there was also a certain +reserve, as though he had secrets in his keeping which no man might +know. Like his comrade, there was little that escaped his keen +observation, but at times there was a far-off look in his eyes, as +though the present had less interest for him than the future. He sat his +horse as one born to the saddle; his hands were firm, his whole frame +full of physical force, energy, and endurance—a man who would act +promptly and with decision, probably a good man to have as a friend, +most certainly an awkward one to have as an enemy.</p> + +<p>"We delayed too long at our last halt, Seth. I doubt whether we shall +see Paris to-night," he said presently, but made no effort to check the +pace of his horse.</p> + +<p>"I've been doubting that for an hour past, Master Richard," was the +answer.</p> + +<p>The grizzled man was Seth, or sometimes Mr. Seth, to all who knew him. +So seldom had he heard himself called Seth Dingwall that he had almost +forgotten the name. Born in Louisiana, he believed he had French blood +in him, and spoke the language easily. He had gone with his mistress to +Virginia when she married Colonel Barrington, and to him Broadmead was +home, and he had no relation in the wide world.</p> + +<p>"Is it so necessary to reach the city to-night?" he asked after a pause.</p> + +<p>"I had planned to do so."</p> + +<p>The answer was characteristic of the man. As a boy, when he had made up +his mind to do a thing, he did it, even though well-merited punishment +might follow, and the boy was father to the man. Save in years and +experience, this was the same Richard Barrington who had dreamed as he +watched sunlit sails disappear in the haze over Chesapeake Bay.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of the horses," said Seth. "I reckon that we have a long +way to travel yet."</p> + +<p>"We may get others presently," Barrington answered, and then, after a +moment's pause, he went on: "We have seen some strange sights since we +landed—ruined homes, small and great, burned and desolated by the +peasants; and in the last few hours we have heard queer tales. I do not +know how matters stand, but it looks as if we might be useful in Paris. +That is why we must push on."</p> + +<p>"Master Richard," he said slowly.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever considered how useless a man may be?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, often, and known such men."</p> + +<p>"You do not catch my meaning. I am talking of a man who is full of +courage and determination, yet just because he is only one is powerless. +A lion might be killed by rats if there were enough rats."</p> + +<p>"True, Seth, but there would be fewer rats by the time the lion was +dead, and a less number for the next lion to struggle with."</p> + +<p>"A good answer," said Seth, "and I'm not saying it isn't a right one, +but I'm thinking of that first lion which may be slain."</p> + +<p>A smile, full of tenderness, came into Barrington's face which, in the +gathering darkness, his companion could hardly have seen had he turned +to look at him, which he did not do.</p> + +<p>"I know, Seth, I know, but I am not one man alone. I have you. It seems +to me that I have always had you, and Heaven knows I should have had far +less heart for this journey had you not come with me. In the old days +you have been nurse and physician to me. I should have drowned in the +pond beyond the orchard had you not been at hand to pull me out; I +should have broken my skull when the branch of that tree broke had you +not caught me; and I warrant there's a scar on your leg somewhere to +show that the bull's horn struck you as you whisked me into a place of +safety."</p> + +<p>"There was something before all those adventures, Master Richard."</p> + +<p>"What was that, Seth?"</p> + +<p>"It was a morning I'm not forgetting until I'm past remembering +anything. We all knew you were coming, and we were looking every day to +hear the news. When we did hear it, it was only part of the story, and +the other part was most our concern for a while. The mistress was like +to die, they said. I remember there was wailing among the plantation +hands, and Gadman the overseer had to use his whip to keep 'em quiet. +We others were just dumb and waited. Then came the morning I speak of. +The mistress was out before the house again for the first time. I +chanced to be by, and she called me. You were lying asleep in her lap. +'Seth,' she said, 'this is the young master; isn't he beautiful? You +must do your best to see that he comes to no harm as he grows up.' Well, +that's all I've done, and it's what I'm bound to go on doing just as +long as ever I can. That was the first time I saw you, Master Richard."</p> + +<p>Barrington did not answer. His companion's words had brought a picture +to his mind of his home in Virginia, which he had never loved quite so +well perhaps as at this moment when he was far away from it, and was +conscious that he might never see it again. Only a few months ago, when +he had sat on the hummock, falling into much the same position as he had +so often done as a boy, he had even wondered whether he wanted to return +to it. Broadmead could never be the same place to him again. His father +had died five years since, and that had been a terrible and sincere +grief to him, but he had his mother, and had to fill his father's place +as well as he could. The work on the estate gave him much to do, and if +the news from France which found its way to Broadmead set him dreaming +afresh at times, he cast such visions away. He had no inclination to +leave his mother now she was alone, and he settled down to peaceful, +happy days, hardly desiring that anything should be different, perhaps +forgetting that some day it must be different. Not a year had passed +since the change had come. A few days' illness and his mother was +suddenly dead.</p> + +<p>He was alone in the world. How could Broadmead ever be the same to him +again?</p> + +<p>"Seth, did my mother ever say anything more to you about me?" he asked +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"She thanked me for saving you from the bull, though I wanted no +thanks."</p> + +<p>"Nothing more?"</p> + +<p>"Only once," Seth returned, "and then she said almost the same words as +she did when I first saw you lying on her knee. 'See that he comes to no +harm, Seth.' She sent for me the night before she died, Master Richard. +That's why I'm here. I didn't want to leave Virginia particularly."</p> + +<p>Barrington might have expressed some regret for bringing his companion +to France had not his horse suddenly demanded his attention. They had +traversed the long stretch of straight road, and were passing by a thin +wood of young trees. Long grass bordered the road on either side, and +Barrington's horse suddenly shied and became restive.</p> + +<p>"There's something lying there," said Seth, whose eyes were suddenly +focused on the ground, and then he dismounted quickly. "It's a man, +Master Richard, and by the Lord! he's had rough treatment."</p> + +<p>Barrington quieted his horse with soothing words, and dismounting, +tethered him to a gate.</p> + +<p>"He's not dead," Seth said, as Barrington bent over him; and as if to +endorse his words, the man moved slightly and groaned.</p> + +<p>"We can't leave him, but—"</p> + +<p>"But we shall not reach Paris to-night," Seth returned. "Didn't they +tell us we should pass by a village? I have forgotten the name."</p> + +<p>"Trémont," said Richard.</p> + +<p>"It can't be much farther. There's no seeing to find out his injuries +here, but if you could help to get him over the saddle in front of me, +Master Richard, I could take him along slowly."</p> + +<p>A feeble light glimmered presently along the road, which proved to be +the light from a tavern which stood at one end of the village, a rough +and not attractive house of entertainment, a fact that the neighbors +seemed to appreciate, for no sound came from it.</p> + +<p>"Those who attacked him may be there, Master Richard, refreshing +themselves after their dastardly work."</p> + +<p>"They must be saying silent prayers of repentance, then. Stay in the +shadows, Seth; I'll make inquiry."</p> + +<p>Leading his horse, Barrington went to the door and called for the +landlord. He had to call twice before an old man shuffled along a dark +passage from the rear of the house and stood before him.</p> + +<p>"Are there lodgings for travelers here?"</p> + +<p>"Lodgings, but no travelers. Trémont's deserted except by children and +invalids. All in Paris, monsieur. Ay, these be hard times for some of +us."</p> + +<p>"I'm for Paris, but must rest here to-night."</p> + +<p>"You're welcome, monsieur, and we'll do our best, but it's poor fare +you'll get and that not cheap."</p> + +<p>"Are there no travelers in the house?"</p> + +<p>"None; none for these two months."</p> + +<p>"No visitor of any kind?"</p> + +<p>"None. Only four to-day, and they cursed me and my wine."</p> + +<p>"I have a friend with me, and a wounded man. We found him by the +roadside."</p> + +<p>"We'll do our best," said the landlord, and he turned away and called +for his wife.</p> + +<p>As Barrington and Seth carried the wounded man in, the landlord looked +at him and started.</p> + +<p>"You know him?" asked Barrington sharply.</p> + +<p>"I saw him only to-day. I'll tell you when you've got him comfortable in +his bed."</p> + +<p>"Is there a doctor in Trémont?"</p> + +<p>"No, monsieur. Over at Lesville there's one, unless he's gone to Paris +with the rest, but he couldn't be got here until the morning.".</p> + +<p>"I may make shift to patch him up to-night, Master Richard," said Seth. +"I helped the doctors a bit before Yorktown, when I was with the +Colonel."</p> + +<p>Possibly no physician or surgeon would have been impressed with Seth's +methods. He was never intended to dress wounds, and yet his touch was +gentle.</p> + +<p>"He'll do until the doctor comes to-morrow," said Seth, as he presently +found Barrington at the frugal meal.</p> + +<p>The landlord apologized for the frugality, but it was all he could do.</p> + +<p>"May I never face less when I am hungry," said Barrington. "You saw this +man to-day, landlord, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I told you that four men cursed me and my wine. They had been here +an hour or more, talking of what was going forward in Paris, and of some +business which they were engaged upon. I took little note of what they +said, for every one is full of important business in these days, +monsieur, but the man who lies upstairs presently rode past. I saw him +from this window, and my four guests saw him, too. They laughed and +settled their score, and five minutes later had brought their horses +from the stable behind the inn and were riding in the direction he had +taken."</p> + +<p>"And attacked him a little later, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"It would seem so," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Should they return, keep it a secret that you have a wounded man in the +house. Will that purchase your silence?"</p> + +<p>The landlord looked at the coins Barrington dropped into his hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, monsieur, you may depend upon it that no one shall know."</p> + +<p>Seth presently went to see the patient again, and returned in a few +moments to say he was conscious.</p> + +<p>"I told him where we found him, and he wants to see you, Master +Richard."</p> + +<p>"Your doctoring must be wonderfully efficacious, Seth."</p> + +<p>"Brandy is a good medicine," was the answer; "but the man's in a bad +way. He may quiet down after he's seen you."</p> + +<p>The man moved slightly as Barrington entered the room, and when he spoke +his words came slowly and in a whisper, yet with some eagerness.</p> + +<p>"They left me for dead, monsieur; they were disturbed, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Why did they attack you?"</p> + +<p>"I was carrying a message."</p> + +<p>"A letter—and they stole it?" asked Barrington.</p> + +<p>"No, a message. It was not safe to write."</p> + +<p>"To whom was the message?"</p> + +<p>"To a woman, my mistress, from her lover. He is in the hands of the +rabble, and only she can save him. For the love of Heaven, monsieur, +take the message to her. I cannot go."</p> + +<p>"What is her name?" Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle St. Clair."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, she shall have it. How shall I make her understand?"</p> + +<p>"Say Lucien prays her to come to Paris. In my coat yonder, in the lining +of the collar, is a little gold star, her gift to him. Say Rouzet gave +it to you because he could travel no farther. She will understand. You +must go warily, and by an indirect road, or they will follow you as they +did me."</p> + +<p>"And where shall I find Mademoiselle St. Clair?"</p> + +<p>"At the Château of Beauvais, hard by Lausanne, across the frontier."</p> + +<p>"Lausanne! Switzerland!"</p> + +<p>Before the man could give a word of further explanation there was a loud +knocking at the door of the inn which the landlord had closed for the +night, and when it was not opened immediately, angry curses and a threat +to break it down. The patient on the bed did not start, he was too +grievously hurt to do that, but his white face grew gray with fear.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing, only a late traveler," said Barrington. "And, my good +fellow, I cannot go to—"</p> + +<p>The man's eyes were closed. The sudden fear seemed to have robbed him of +consciousness. It was quite evident to Barrington that he could not be +made to understand just now that a journey to Beauvais was impossible. +He waited a few minutes to see if the man would rouse again, but he did +not, and seeing that an explanation must be put off until later, he went +out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. As he descended the +stairs the landlord tiptoed up to meet him.</p> + +<p>"The men who were here to-day and cursed my wine," he whispered. "Two of +them have returned!"</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>A BINDING OATH</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The return of these men, if indeed they were responsible for the +condition of the man upstairs, might augur further evil for him. They +had perchance returned along the road to make certain that their work +was complete, and, finding their victim gone, were now in search of him. +Exactly what reliance was to be placed on the word of the wounded man, +Barrington had not yet determined. He might be a contemptible spy, his +message might contain hidden information to the enemies of his country; +he was certainly carrying it to aristocrats who were safe across the +frontier, and he might fully deserve all the punishment which had been +meted out to him, but for the moment he was unable to raise a hand in +his own defense and his helplessness appealed to Barrington. These men +should not have their will of him if he could prevent it.</p> + +<p>"Keep out of the way of being questioned," he whispered to the landlord, +as they went down the stairs. It was characteristic of Richard +Barrington that he had formed no plan when he entered the room. He +believed that actions must always be controlled by the circumstances of +the moment, that it was generally essential to see one's enemy before +deciding how to outwit him, a false theory perhaps, but, given a strong +personality, one which is often successful.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, gentlemen! My friend and I are not the only late +travelers to-night."</p> + +<p>The two men looked sharply at him. Their attention had been keenly, +though furtively, concentrated upon Seth, who sat in a corner, +apparently half asleep. In fact, having just noticed them, he had closed +his eyes as though he were too weary and worn out to talk.</p> + +<p>Both men curtly acknowledged Barrington's greeting, hardly conscious of +the curtness maybe. They were of the people, their natural roughness +turned to a sort of insolent swagger by reason of the authority which +had been thrust upon them. They were armed, blatantly so, and displayed +the tri-colored cockade. In some society, at any rate, they were of +importance, and this stranger and the manner of his greeting puzzled +them. He spoke like an aristocrat, yet there was something unfamiliar +about him.</p> + +<p>"Did you have to batter at the door before you could gain admittance?" +asked one. Of the two, he seemed to have the greater authority.</p> + +<p>"No, we arrived before the door was closed."</p> + +<p>"Closed doors are suspicious," the man returned with an oath. "This is +the day of open doors and freedom for all, citizen."</p> + +<p>"Liberty, equality, and fraternity," Barrington answered. "It is a good +motto. One that men may well fight for."</p> + +<p>"Do you fight for it?" asked the man, truculently.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," said Barrington, very quietly and perfectly unmoved, +apparently seeing nothing unusual in the man's manner or his question, +but quite conscious that Seth had sleepily let his hand slip into his +pocket and kept it there.</p> + +<p>"Late travelers on the road are also suspicious," said the man, stepping +a little nearer to Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Tell me, of what are you afraid? My friend and I are armed, as +I see you are. We may join forces against a common danger. Four resolute +men are not easily to be played with."</p> + +<p>"Aristocrats find it convenient to travel at night, and tricked out just +as you are," he said. "I have taken part in stopping many of them."</p> + +<p>"Doubtless an excellent and useful occupation," Barrington returned.</p> + +<p>"And I have heard many of them talk like that," said the man, "an +attempt to throw dust into eyes far too sharp to be blinded by it. You +will tell me where you travel to and where from."</p> + +<p>"Do you ask out of courteous curiosity, as meeting travelers may do, or +for some other reason?"</p> + +<p>"You may think whichever pleases you."</p> + +<p>"I am not making for the frontier, if that is what you want to know," +laughed Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I asked a question which it will be well for you to answer," said the +man, and it was evident that his companion was also on the alert.</p> + +<p>"Have you authority to question me?" Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>"Papers here," said the man, touching his coat, "and this." His hand +fell upon a pistol in his belt.</p> + +<p>"Leave it there. It is the safest place."</p> + +<p>Seth's hands had come from his pocket with a pistol in it. Barrington +still laughed.</p> + +<p>"My friend seems as suspicious as you are. Let me end it, for truly I +expected to be drinking with you before this, instead of trying to find +a cause for quarrel. Your eyes must be sharp indeed if you can discover +an aristocrat in me. I was for freedom and the people before you had +struck a blow for the cause here in France. We are from the coast, +before that from America, and we journey to Paris to offer our services +to the Marquis de Lafayette."</p> + +<p>Perhaps the man believed him, perhaps he did not, but the result of an +appeal to force was doubtful, and wine was an attraction. He held out +his hand with an air that the welcome of France was in the action. For +the present they could pose as friends, whatever might chance in the +future.</p> + +<p>"Sieur Motier the Marquis is now called, but in America that name would +not appeal. We may drown our mistake in wine, the first but maybe not +the last time we shall drink together."</p> + +<p>The landlord brought in the wine and departed without being questioned.</p> + +<p>"Sieur Motier," said Barrington, reflectively. "News has traveled slowly +to us in Virginia, and things here have moved quickly. You can tell me +much. This meeting is a fortunate one for me."</p> + +<p>Into weeks and months had been crowded the ordinary work of a long +period of time. After nearly three years of strenuous effort, the +Constituent Assembly had come to an end. With Mirabeau as its master +spirit, it had done much, some evil, but a great deal that was good. It +had suppressed torture, done away with secret letters, and lightened the +burden of many grievous taxes. Now, the one man who was able to deal +with the crisis if any man was, the aristocrat who had become the +darling of the rabble, the "little mother" of the fisher-wives, the hope +of even the King himself, was silent. Mirabeau was dead. In fear the +King had fled from Paris only to be stopped at Varennes and brought back +ignominiously to the capital. The Legislative Assembly took the place of +the Constituent Assembly, three parties in it struggling fiercely for +the mastery, one party, that high-seated crowd called the Mountain, red +republicans whose cry was ever "No King," growing stronger day by day. +Nations in arms were gathering on the frontiers of France, and the +savagery of the populace was let loose. The Tuileries had been stormed, +the Swiss Guard butchered, the royal family imprisoned in the Temple. +Quickly the Legislative Assembly had given way to a National Convention, +and the country was ripe for any and every atrocity the mind of man +could conceive.</p> + +<p>The patriot, sitting opposite to Barrington and drinking wine at +intervals, told his tale with enthusiasm and with many comments of his +own. He was full of the tenets of the Jacobin and Cordelian Clubs. For +him the world, set spinning on a mad career when the Bastille fell, was +moving too slowly again. There had been a good beginning, truly +something had been done since, but why not make a good end of it? +Mirabeau, yes, he had done something, but the work had grown too large +for him. He had died in good time before the people had become tired of +him. France was for the people, and there must be death for all who +stood in the people's way, and a quick death, too.</p> + +<p>"Blood must run more freely, there will be no good end without that," he +said; "the blood of all aristocrats, no matter what they promise, what +they pretend. From the beginning they were liars. France has no use for +them save to make carrion of."</p> + +<p>"And whose power is sufficient for all this?" Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>"To-day, no one's. To-morrow;—who shall say? Things go forward quickly +at times. A sudden wave might even raise me to power."</p> + +<p>"Then the good ending," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>The man caught no irony, he only heard the flattery.</p> + +<p>"Then the blood flowing," he laughed; "so, as full in color and as +freely spilt," and he jerked the remains of the wine in his glass across +the room, staining the opposite wall.</p> + +<p>"And if not at your word, perhaps at that of Monsieur de Lafayette, +Sieur Motier," Barrington suggested. He wanted the man to talk about the +Marquis.</p> + +<p>"He is an aristocrat with sympathies which make no appeal to me. The +people have grown tired of him, too. I am honest, and fear no man, and I +say that Motier has long been at the crossroads. He is, or was, an +honest man, I hardly know which he is now, and even honest men must +suffer for the cause. You say you are his friend, whisper that warning +in his ear, if you see him; say you had it from Jacques Sabatier, he +will have heard of me."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, I will tell him," said Barrington, wondering if such a man +as Lafayette could have heard of such a truculent scoundrel as this. "Is +he in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing of him. He was with the army in the North, but he may +have been recalled. He must obey like the rest of us. Do you ride with +us to Paris to-night?"</p> + +<p>"No. Our horses need rest, but we shall meet there, I hope."</p> + +<p>"A true patriot must needs meet Sabatier in Paris," and the man +swaggered out of the room, followed by his companion.</p> + +<p>Barrington and Seth stood at the tavern door to watch their departure. +It was not advisable that they should be alone with the landlord and +have an opportunity of asking him questions.</p> + +<p>The two men rode sharply through the village, but on the outskirts drew +rein.</p> + +<p>"Had you sharp enough eyes to discover anything?" Sabatier asked, +turning to his companion.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, except that one of them was too much like an aristocrat to +please me."</p> + +<p>"He comes to Paris, and may be dealt with there. What of Bruslart's +messenger?"</p> + +<p>"I saw no sign of him."</p> + +<p>"Yet they journey from the coast and must have passed him on the road. +He was beyond moving of his own accord."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean they helped him?"</p> + +<p>"Some one has. We were fools to allow ourselves to be disturbed before +completing our work."</p> + +<p>"Why did you not question the landlord or the men themselves?"</p> + +<p>"Time enough for that," Sabatier answered. "Two men against two gives no +odds to depend upon. Ride on toward Paris and send me back a dozen +patriots, no matter where you find them. There are some in the +neighborhood who have tasted blood in burning a château, whisper that +there are aristocrats in Trémont. They shall find me by that farm +yonder, snatching an hour's sleep in the straw maybe. Then get you to +Villefort, where Mercier and Dubois are waiting. Bid them watch that +road. Possibly the messenger was not so helpless as we imagined."</p> + +<p>Jacques Sabatier did not move until the sound of his comrade's horse +had died into silence, then he went toward the farm, tethered his horse, +and threw himself down on the straw in a dilapidated barn. Sleep must be +taken when it could be got. The days and nights were too full for +settled times of rest. In his little sphere he was a man of consequence, +not of such importance as he imagined, but, nevertheless, before his +fellows. He had been at the storming of the Bastille, that gave him +prestige; he had a truculent swagger which counted in these days, +especially if there had been no opportunity of being proved a coward. +Perchance Sabatier had never been put to the test. In a rabble it is +easy to shout loudly, yet be where the danger is least, and this +wide-mouthed patriot had much to say about himself.</p> + +<p>His sleep was sound enough for the proverbial just man, sound and +dreamless, aided perhaps by a liberal allowance of wine. At daybreak he +was still slumbering, and the little crowd of men who presently found +him in the barn had some trouble in rousing him. He struggled to his +feet, his mind a blank for a moment.</p> + +<p>"What is it? What do you want?" and for an instant there was a look in +his eyes strangely like fear.</p> + +<p>"You sent for us," said one.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I remember." Sabatier was himself again. "There's work for us in +the village yonder. Rats in a hole, comrades. We go to smoke them out."</p> + +<p>A fierce undertone of approval was the answer.</p> + +<p>So in the early morning there was once more a heavy battering at the +closed door of the tavern, and shouting to the landlord to open quickly. +He came shuffling down the stairs.</p> + +<p>"It's over early for guests," he said sleepily, "but you're good men, I +see. Come in."</p> + +<p>Then he caught sight of Sabatier and trembled a little. He was an old +man, and had been oppressed so long that he had become used to it. He +understood very little of what was going forward in the country.</p> + +<p>"Where are the aristocrats?" hissed a dozen raucous voices.</p> + +<p>"Those guests of yours," said Sabatier.</p> + +<p>"They have gone—went soon after you left last night. It was a surprise, +but I had no power to stop them."</p> + +<p>There was an angry movement toward the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Wait," said Sabatier. "He is probably a liar. We shall see."</p> + +<p>The men searched the house, some watching the doors lest the aristocrats +should make a dash for freedom. Certainly there was a guest here still, +but he made no effort to escape. At the top of the stairs was a +door—locked.</p> + +<p>"The key," Sabatier demanded.</p> + +<p>"I will fetch it," was the timid answer.</p> + +<p>The locked door was suspicious. Two men ran hastily to watch the window +and prevent escape that way. And why delay for the key? Not a very +strong lock this, a blow from a man's heel could break it, did break it, +and the door crashed open, splitting itself from one of its hinges.</p> + +<p>On the bed lay a man, half-dressed, his eyes wide open, fixed upon the +ceiling, his head bound with a cloth, blood-stained. Very sunken was the +head in the pillows, very thin looked the form stretched under the +coarse blanket. Sabatier touched him and then looked swiftly round the +room. A coat was thrown across a chair. He took this up, and there was a +cut in the lining of it, high up near the collar.</p> + +<p>"Who did this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The landlord did not know.</p> + +<p>"Who did it, I say!" and he struck him in the face with the back of his +hand, a heavy enough blow to send the old man to the wall.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, sir, it's true I do not know," whined the landlord. +"They brought him here half dead; had found him on the road, they said. +He seemed to get better when one of them bound him up. When they came to +look at him after you had gone he was dead. I left them alone with him, +and in a few minutes they called me and said they must leave for Paris +at once."</p> + +<p>Sabatier flung the coat aside with an oath.</p> + +<p>"This is Citizen Latour's business," he said to his companions.</p> + +<p>"And he's been helping aristocrats," said one man, pointing to the +landlord still leaning by the wall.</p> + +<p>"What else?" said Sabatier, shortly, as he strode out of the room and +down the stairs.</p> + +<p>A cry followed him, but he did not stop.</p> + +<p>"Mercy! I know nothing."</p> + +<p>A wilder cry, half drowned by savage curses and the sound of blows. +Still Sabatier paid no heed. He went into the room below, knocked the +neck off a wine bottle and poured the contents into a mug and drank, +smacking his lips.</p> + +<p>A woman, half dressed, rushed down the stairs and into the street.</p> + +<p>"Let her go," Sabatier cried, as a man was starting after her. "Maybe +she's not too old to find another husband."</p> + +<p>Laughing, and cursing, the men came tumbling down the stairs, ripe for +deviltry; but for the moment here was wine to be had for the taking, +everything else could wait.</p> + +<p>When later they left, a woman came rushing toward them.</p> + +<p>"Let me in! Let me in!" she cried. "He's not dead."</p> + +<p>"Out of it," said one, pushing her roughly aside so that she stumbled +and fell upon the road. "He's dead, or will be soon enough. Our work is +thorough, and this might be a château instead of a wine shop by the way +we've treated it. You watch a while. You'll understand," and he laughed +as he closed the door.</p> + +<p>The poor soul may have understood his meaning, or she may not, as she +rocked herself to and fro in the roadway. The ribald songs of these +patriots, these apostles of freedom, had not died as they marched and +danced out of Trémont when there was a smell of burning in the air, and +first smoke, then flame burst from the tavern, quickly reducing it to a +heap of ashes. It was a strange grave for the charred remains of two men +who yesterday had been full of life. This was a time when things moved +apace and there was no prophesying from day to day.</p> +<hr /> + +<p>Long since out of range of the smoke cloud rising in the morning sky, +Richard Barrington and Seth urged their horses along the road.</p> + +<p>"Is this a wise journey?" Seth asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell."</p> + +<p>"Paris might be safer."</p> + +<p>"I promised to carry a message to a woman," Barrington answered. "The +man is dead; there remains my oath. Somewhere before us lies the Château +of Beauvais, and that is the way we go."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>BEAUVAIS</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>There are few fairer spots in this world than Beauvais. He who has +dreamed of an earthly paradise and sought it out, might well rest here +contented, satisfied. It lies at the top of a long, ascending valley +which twists its way upward from the Swiss frontier into the hills, a +rough and weary road to travel, yet with a new vista of beauty at every +turn. Here are wooded slopes where a dryad might have her dwelling; +yonder some ragged giant towers toward heaven, his scarred rocky +shoulders capped with snow. Below, deep down from the road cut in the +hillside, undulate green pastures, the cattle so small at this distance +that they might be toys set there after a child's fancy; while a torrent +leaping joyously from ledge to ledge might be a babbling brook but for +the sound of its full music which comes upward on the still air, telling +of impetuous force and power. Here eternity seems to have an habitation, +and time to be a thing of naught. The changing seasons may come and go, +storm and tempest may spend their rage, and summer heat and winter frost +work their will, yet that rocky height shall still climb into cloudland, +and those green pastures shall flourish. Centuries ago, eyes long +blinded by the dust of death looked upon this fair scene and understood +something of its everlasting nature; centuries hence, other eyes shall +behold its beauty and still dream of a distant future. We are but +children of a day, brilliant ephemera flashing in a noontide sun; these +silent, watching hills have known generations of others like us, as +brilliant and as short-lived; shall know generations more, unborn as +yet, unthought of.</p> + +<p>At the head of this valley, rising suddenly from a stretch of level +land, is a long hill lying like a wedge, its thin edge resting on the +plain. The sides, as they get higher, become more precipitous, but from +the thin edge there ascends a road about which houses cluster, irregular +and pointed roofs rising one above the other in strange confusion until +they are crowned at the summit by the château standing like their +protector to face and defy the world. To the right, dominating the whole +of this region, is the great double peak, snow-clad and often +cloud-bound, which seems to stand sentinel for the surrounding mountains +as the castle does to the valley; God's work and the work of man. He who +first built his castle there knew well that in might lay right, and +chose his place accordingly. Now houses stretch down to the level of the +plain, but it was not always so. Halfway through the village the road +passes through a gateway of solid stone, flanked by towers pierced for +defense, and the wall through which this gate gives entrance remains, +broken in places, lichen-covered, yet still eloquent of its former +strength and purpose. Within the gate the village widens into an open +square rising toward the château, and this square is surrounded by old +houses picturesque and with histories. Many a time Beauvais has stood +siege, its lord holding it against some neighbor stirred by pride or +love tragedy to deadly feud. In these ancient houses his retainers +lived, his only so long as he was strong enough to make himself feared, +fierce men gathered from all points of the compass, soldiers of fortune +holding their own lives and the lives of others cheaply. From such men, +brilliant in arms, have sprung descendants who have made their mark in a +politer epoch, men and women who have become courtiers, companions of +kings, leaders of men, pioneers of learning. Carved into these ancient +houses in Beauvais are crests and mottoes which are the pride of these +descendants now scattered over Europe. Such is the village of Beauvais, +asleep for many years, the home of peasants chiefly, mountaineers and +tenders of cattle, still with the fighting spirit in them, but dormant, +lacking the necessity. A fair place, but to the exile, only through a +veil does the fairest land reveal its beauty. Its sunlit hills, its +green pastures, the silver sheen of its streams, the blue of its sky, he +will see through a mist of regret, through tears perchance. No beauty +can do away with the fact that it is only a land of exile, to be endured +and made the best of for a while, never to be really loved. There is +coming an hour in which he may return home, and he is forever looking +forward, counting the days. The present must be lived, but reality lies +in the future.</p> + +<p>The Marquise de Rovère, brilliant, witty, proud as any woman in France, +daughter of ancestors famous during the time of the fourteenth and +fifteenth Louis, had in the long past a forbear who was lord of this +château of Beauvais. Since then there had been other lords with whom she +had nothing to do, but her grandfather having grown rich, +unscrupulously, it was said, bought Beauvais, restored it, added to it +and tried to forget that it had ever passed out of the hands of his +ancestors. In due time his granddaughter inherited it, and after that +terrible day at Versailles when the mob had stormed the palace, when +many of the nobility foresaw disaster and made haste to flee from it +into voluntary exile, what better place could the Marquise choose than +this château of Beauvais? Hither she had come with her niece Jeanne St. +Clair, and others had followed. In Paris the Marquise had been the +center of a brilliant coterie, she would still be a center in Beauvais +and the château should be open to every emigré of distinction.</p> + +<p>So it came to pass that sleepy Beauvais had suddenly stretched itself +and aroused from slumber. The Marquise was rich, her niece a wealthy +heiress, much of both their fortunes not dependent upon French finance, +and a golden harvest fell upon the simple mountaineers and cattle +tenders. Every available room was at the disposal of master or lackey, +and the sleepy square was alive with men and women who had intrigued and +danced at Versailles, who had played pastoral games with Marie +Antoinette at the Trianon, whose names were famous. Idlers were many in +Beauvais, exiles awaiting the hour for return, for revenge upon the +rabble, yet doing nothing to forward the hour; but there were many +others, men who came and went full of news and endeavor. Beauvais was a +meeting place. There one might hear the latest rumors from Paris, learn +what help might be expected from Austria, from Prussia; and while news +was gathered and given there was brilliant entertainment at the château.</p> + +<p>"We may make even exile bearable," the Marquise had said, and she did +her utmost to do so.</p> + +<p>It was into this wideawake village of Beauvais that Richard Barrington +and Seth, weary and travel-stained, rode late one afternoon, and came to +a halt before the inn. They passed almost unnoticed, for strangers were +a common sight, often quaintly disguised to escape their enemies.</p> + +<p>There was no room in the inn, nor did the good landlady, who still +seemed flurried with so much business to attend to, know where they +would get a lodging.</p> + +<p>"Every house is a hotel these days, and I think every house is full," +she said. "All the world has come to Beauvais for the masked ball at the +château."</p> + +<p>"There are still holes to be found," said a man lounging by the door. +"My friend and I were in the same predicament, but we have found a +corner. I believe there is room of sorts still to be had in the house, +and if Monsieur permits, I shall have pleasure in taking him there."</p> + +<p>"You are very good," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>The stranger led the way across the square to an old house set back +between its neighbors, as though it were modest and shrinking from +observation, or desirous of keeping a secret. Its door was narrow and +down a step from the roadway; its windows small, like half-closed eyes.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur must expect little and even then get less than he expects, and +pay dearly for it; but it is such a hole as this or a night in the +open."</p> + +<p>"I am weary enough not to mind much where I sleep," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Add it all to the account which the <i>canaille</i> must some day pay," +answered the man.</p> + +<p>A stuffy little loft of a room, adjoining another loft occupied by their +guide and his friend, was all the space available, but it was better +than nothing, and Barrington quickly came to terms with the owner of the +house.</p> + +<p>Monsieur le Comte, for so the proprietor addressed the man who had +guided them to the house, departed, hoping for their further +acquaintance presently, and offering them any help which it might be in +his power to afford.</p> + +<p>"We find ourselves in a strange place, Master Richard," said Seth, +surveying the room.</p> + +<p>"We may come to stranger ones before we see Virginia again," was the +answer.</p> + +<p>"Ay, that's true; and there's not a certainty that we shall ever see +Virginia again," said Seth. "I took the precaution to say farewell to +all the old corners of Broadmead before I left."</p> + +<p>"It's a fool's game to step too far into the future. A wise man never +buys his own coffin," laughed Barrington. "We are in luck."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you think so, Master Richard. I see plenty of danger, but +little luck. It was to help the people we came, and here we are at +Beauvais to serve an aristocrat. Our friends the people are not likely +to forgive us easily."</p> + +<p>"There is a woman to help, Seth."</p> + +<p>"I wonder how many excellent schemes a woman has brought to nothing."</p> + +<p>"And that is why I say we are in luck," said Barrington, taking no +notice of the comment. "How are we to get audience with this woman? The +question has puzzled me upon the journey. We are met with the news that +there is to be a masked ball at the château. Could we have arrived at a +more opportune time?"</p> + +<p>"You will go to the château?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. I shall find some excuse and get a disguise that best fits +it. Every one in Beauvais must be able to give me some description by +which I may know Mademoiselle St. Clair. The rest will be easy."</p> + +<p>"This faith of youth is very wonderful," said Seth.</p> + +<p>"Not more remarkable than your forebodings," Barrington returned. "You +have not always been so quick to talk of danger."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it's the different air. I prefer the breeze that comes off +Chesapeake Bay to that of these hills, and there's a devil of depression +in this cockloft, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>"Come out of it, then. Hunger and thirst are at the bottom of your +croaking. We will go eat and drink and gather news."</p> + +<p>"And at this ball, Master Richard, see that you think more of the +readiness of your arms than your grace in a dance."</p> + +<p>Barrington laughed as he descended the narrow stairs, but he was not +heedless of his companion's warnings. He was fully alive to the danger +he was in, and if the truth must be told, was not particularly pleased +to find himself in Beauvais. He would far rather have been in Paris. The +romantic element in this unexpected adventure did not greatly appeal to +him. He had crossed the ocean to help an oppressed people; he was full +of enthusiasm for a cause, so much an enthusiast that the two braggart +representatives of the people with whom he had come in contact at +Trémont had in no way disillusioned him. Refuse must needs be cast on +the wave crests of a revolution; but there was also Lafayette. He was +the people's true representative, and Barrington longed to be at his +side to help him. He had promised to deliver a message, believing that +he was undertaking a comparatively small matter, and just when he +learned that a journey into Switzerland was involved, interruption had +come and the man had lost consciousness. Barrington had fully intended +to explain to the wounded man that such a journey was impossible. After +Sabatier and his companion had left the inn, he had gone upstairs for +this purpose, only to find the man dead. He had made a promise to a +dying man, and at all hazards that promise must be fulfilled. The sooner +it was done, the sooner he could journey to Paris; and their arrival in +Beauvais at the time of this masked ball was fortunate: there need be +little delay.</p> + +<p>A little later Monsieur le Comte found them.</p> + +<p>"We must needs celebrate your escape," he said. "This is my friend, like +myself an exile from Paris. You are also from Paris?"</p> + +<p>"From outside Paris," Barrington answered. For the nonce he must pose as +an aristocrat, and wondered by what name he might best deceive them. +Seth, too, was a grave difficulty. He could show few marks of an +aristocrat.</p> + +<p>The Frenchman's next words saved him all trouble, however.</p> + +<p>"We do not ask too many questions in Beauvais, Monsieur. That we are +here proves that we do not uphold the people, and we need not too +closely inquire who our neighbor may be. We shall not all wish to +maintain the friendships made in exile when we return to France. Here's +to your safe arrival, Monsieur, and to our speedy return. The sentiment +is of the best vintage, though the wine may be inferior. I warrant the +cellars of the château will do better for us to-morrow night. You go to +the ball, Monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"I am ill-provided for such an entertainment."</p> + +<p>"As are many others," was the laughing answer, "since they were obliged +to leave so hurriedly that there was short time for packing. That need +not deter you, Monsieur, and if you have no opportunity of apprising the +Marquise of your arrival, I believe there are some so poor in their +exile that they would sell their invitation. We do things in Beauvais +that would shame us elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"I must confess to not being personally acquainted with the Marquise," +said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Say no more, Monsieur; you shall have an invitation in the morning. A +few louis will purchase it."</p> + +<p>"You overwhelm me with courtesy," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"No, no; it is nothing. To-morrow evening I may have the opportunity of +presenting you to the Marquise."</p> + +<p>"And to her niece?"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle St. Clair? That is as Monsieur wills," he laughed.</p> + +<p>"I do not understand your merriment."</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Monsieur, but there are not many who crave presentation to +Mademoiselle. You have not heard of her?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing but her name."</p> + +<p>"Think, Monsieur, of a large woman with black hair and complexion more +swart than beautiful, with large hands that could clasp mine and hide +them, and feet flat and heavy; a figure that is no figure, all its lines +pressed from within out of place and which shakes as she walks; a voice +whose whisper is raucous. Then, Monsieur, conceive this woman unaware of +her defects, who simpers and attempts to use her dull eyes in +fascination. That is Mademoiselle St. Clair."</p> + +<p>"Surely you exaggerate?"</p> + +<p>"No, it is a fair picture," said the friend, "and yet she has admirers. +Her fortune is as large as her person."</p> + +<p>Barrington laughed. There could be small romance in the love story which +fate had called him to assist, and certainly he would have small +difficulty in finding Mademoiselle St. Clair.</p> + +<p>"I will not trespass on your courtesy for an introduction to her, +Monsieur," he said, "and since the wine is finished, you will pardon us +if we retire. We have traveled far and are weary."</p> + +<p>Monsieur le Comte looked at his companion when they had gone, and +smiled.</p> + +<p>"A new experience for Beauvais," he said; "a man who has not the honor +of knowing Madame la Marquise and has not heard of the charms of +Mademoiselle her niece."</p> + +<p>"The picture you drew was a little too repulsive, I think."</p> + +<p>"She will be masked," was the laughing answer. "He must have his +invitation as promised. It will cost a few louis, and we are none too +rich. We are dealers in this matter, and must have some profit for our +labor."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur le Comte, you are a genius," laughed his companion.</p> + +<p>An hour later, Monsieur le Comte knocked softly at the door of +Barrington's room.</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>He knocked louder.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I have the invitation."</p> + +<p>Still there was no answer.</p> + +<p>"Parbleu, they sleep like the dead," he murmured, and went back to his +companion.</p> + +<p>Seth lay like a log—in deep, dreamless sleep. It would take far more +than a mere knocking at the door to wake him. Barrington, deaf to the +knocking, deeply asleep too, was restless, turning and tossing with +dreams—nightmares. He was falling over one of the precipices which they +had passed on their way to Beauvais. He was imprisoned, almost +suffocated, in a little room; the walls seemed to gradually close in +upon him and then suddenly to open; he was ill, surely, for men were +about him, looking into his face and muttering together. Again, he was +in a crowd, a dancing, noisy crowd, searching for a great woman who +shook as she walked. It was madness to seek her here, they were all +pigmies, and he turned away; another moment they were all big, all the +women had raven hair, large hands and feet; he would never be able to +find the woman he sought. Then this scene faded and there came others, +some horrible, all fantastic; and always there came, sooner or later, a +woman, ugly, repulsive, masterful. She fascinated him. He was conscious +of struggling to free himself. He could not. Something, some +irresistible power, forced him to speak to her, to love her, to love +while he tried to hate, and her great dull eyes looked at him, rewarding +him. He knew her, forever hereafter must be possessed by her. This +horrible woman, this Jeanne St. Clair, was his fate. Nightmare was his +long after the day had broken and men and women were abroad in Beauvais.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>MADEMOISELLE ST. CLAIR</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Sharp hammering at the door, long continued, finally brought an end to +Barrington's nightmare hours and Seth's deep slumbers. The sun was +streaming in through the little window, revealing the dust and the +dilapidation of this lodging. Seth went to the door.</p> + +<p>"Ma foi, I thought you had started on your last long journey," said the +proprietor of the house. "My knuckles are sore with knocking. Monsieur +le Comte bid me give you this card. You would understand and pay, he +said."</p> + +<p>"How much?"</p> + +<p>"Six louis. It was arranged, he said, and I gave him the money before he +went this morning."</p> + +<p>"He has gone?" called Barrington from his bed.</p> + +<p>"Madame la Marquise heard of his arrival, Monsieur, and sent to fetch +him to lodgings in the castle. You will doubtless meet him in Beauvais +during the day."</p> + +<p>"Six louis for this card?" questioned Seth. "It is a long price."</p> + +<p>"If you were not a stranger in Beauvais you would know that it was very +cheap," answered the proprietor.</p> + +<p>"Pay it," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>Seth did so with a grumble, and wondered how much the proprietor was +making out of the deal.</p> + +<p>"We have fallen among thieves, Master Richard," he said as he shut the +door. "I shouldn't wonder if any one could slip into this ball without +payment of any sort. We've made a long night of it."</p> + +<p>"Weariness and wine," answered Barrington. "The wine was strong, or this +mountain air added to the potency of its effects upon us."</p> + +<p>"Maybe. I never slept so soundly since I was a youngster."</p> + +<p>"And I never had such horrible dreams," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking, Master Richard, that there may be worse than +thieves in Beauvais," said Seth, after a pause. "We're rather like men +at sea without the knowledge of how to handle ropes and set sail—an +extra puff of wind, and we risk being overturned. There's something to +learn about the methods of these Frenchmen, especially when every man +sees a possible enemy in his neighbor. The gentlemen at Trémont did not +much please me, nor was I greatly taken with Monsieur le Comte."</p> + +<p>"We shall have plenty of time to learn their methods, Seth."</p> + +<p>"But in the meanwhile the puff of wind may come, Master Richard. I don't +like this masked ball."</p> + +<p>"You may trust me to be careful."</p> + +<p>"Your idea of precaution and mine may differ a little," Seth answered. +"You don't see danger so far ahead as I do."</p> + +<p>"That may be in my favor," laughed Richard. "Be at ease, Seth; I shall +do nothing rash. Neither our blatant friend Sabatier, nor our courteous +acquaintance of last night, shall catch me sleeping. I do not trust men +very easily, nor women either, for that matter."</p> + +<p>"Ay, Master Richard, it's a weight off my mind to know that this +Mademoiselle St. Clair has so little attraction about her. I've been +young myself and know the power of women. You've not been through that +fire yet."</p> + +<p>"A strange thing at my age, Seth. I have thought that no woman is likely +to plague me much."</p> + +<p>"Get well into your grave before you think that," was the answer. "I'm +no hater of women, far from it, and I know a man's never safe. Why, a +chit of twenty may make a fool of a veteran, and set his tired old heart +trying to beat like that of a lad just out of his school days. Only last +year there was a girl in Virginia sent me panting along this road of +folly, and I'm not sure it wasn't Providence which sent me with you to +France."</p> + +<p>Beauvais presented a lively scene that day, but it was in vain that +Barrington kept a sharp lookout for Monsieur le Comte and his friend. +Many people came and went from the château, but they were not among +them. Barrington did not particularly want to meet them, but he realized +that circumstances might arise which would make them useful, and he +would have liked to find out what position they held among the other +exiles in Beauvais. A prominent one, surely, since the Marquise had +fetched them to lodgings in the château, and therefore it was possible +that Barrington's arrival had puzzled them. They might reasonably doubt +whether he had any right to pose as an aristocrat and an exile, +suspicion would certainly follow, and sharp eyes might be upon him at +the ball to-night. Even as a go-between in a love affair there might be +some danger for him, but was his mission only that?</p> + +<p>When he left his lodgings that evening he had disguised himself as much +as possible. He wore a cloak which his acquaintances of last night had +not seen, he had procured a mask which hid as much of his face as +possible. He went armed, and fastened in the lining of his coat was the +little gold star he had taken from the dead man's coat. He fingered it +through the cloth to make sure that it was safe as he crossed the, +square and went toward the château. Seth may have been right, and the +six louis thrown away, for no one took any notice of Barrington as he +passed into the castle. Although he gave up his card of invitation, he +was convinced that with a little diplomacy and a bold front he could +have got in without one.</p> + +<p>Exteriorly the castle retained much of its mediæval appearance, and +within the new had been cleverly and lovingly grafted onto the old. +There were still dungeons enclosed in these massive walls, chambers +wherein misery and pain had cried aloud to no effect. There were narrow +passages down which tortured men must once have been carried, or at the +end of which some oubliette opened to sudden destruction. Many horrible +things must be in the knowledge of this massive masonry. The great hall, +where men at arms, after a foray or raid upon some neighboring +stronghold, must have caroused times without number, making the roof +ring with their rude rejoicing, was alive to-night with men and women, +exiles forgetting their exile for a while or exchanging news which might +mean a speedy return to their homeland. All were masked, although it was +apparent that many had no difficulty in recognizing their neighbors +under the disguise, but although there were a few brilliant costumes +and occasional flashes of jewels, the general impression of dress was +sombre and makeshift. How could it be otherwise when the flight from +Paris, or from the provinces, had been so sudden, no preparation +possible?</p> + +<p>At one side of the hall, the center of a little group, stood a +white-haired woman of commanding presence. Jewels flashed in her dress, +and there was laughter about her. Evidently this was the Marquise de +Rovère, and she was busy welcoming her guests. With some it was more +than a passing word of greeting, there was news to be imparted by one +lately in communication with Austria or Prussia, or perchance with +England; there was the latest news from Paris to be had from one who had +just escaped from his enemies; there was news, too, of friends who had +not been so fortunate, or who had willingly stayed to face the storm; +there were rumors which had been gathered from all sources to be +whispered. This château of Beauvais was a meeting place, a center for +much scheming; and for a while the hours must be made to pass as +pleasantly as possible.</p> + +<p>These men and women were different from those he had come in contact +with, of a different world altogether; yet his youth responded to the +music and verve of it all. Because it was different, new and unfamiliar +to him, that was no proof that what he had known was right, and this was +wrong. His blood was pulsating, the atmosphere was exhilarating. +Pleasure flung him her gauge, why should he not pick it up? A woman was +beside him, dark eyes flashing through her mask, red lips wreathed into +a smile. The next moment reserve had broken down and he was dancing with +her, acquitting himself with sufficient grace to pass muster, and +almost as ready with his compliment as she was to receive it.</p> + +<p>"We shall dance again, monsieur," she said presently, when another +partner carried her away.</p> + +<p>"Until then I shall count the moments," Barrington answered, and it was +perhaps this suggestion of the future which brought to his mind the real +reason for his presence there.</p> + +<p>A large woman, with raven hair, and of such a figure that it shook when +she walked; among the dancers there were many who might pass for large +women, the hair of one or two might be considered raven, but there was +not one who completed the full description he had had of Mademoiselle +St. Clair. Certainly she was not among those who stood near the +Marquise, and Barrington went from vantage point to vantage point in +search of her. Neither could he discover Monsieur le Comte or his +friend. Lodged in the château, they had possibly obtained richer +garments, and would be difficult to identify. The fulfillment of his +mission was not to be so easy as he had imagined.</p> + +<p>He had been watching from a corner near the entrance to the ballroom, +partially concealed by a little knot of people who were standing before +him. He could have overheard their conversation, but he was not +listening. He was wondering how he could find mademoiselle. There was +surely some other apartment where guests were, for his eyes were keen, +and he had certainly not seen her yet.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur does not dance?"</p> + +<p>Barrington turned quickly. The little crowd which had stood in front of +him had gone, and near him was a woman. It was difficult to know whether +her words were a statement of fact, question or invitation.</p> + +<p>"I have danced, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"And are now waiting for some one?"</p> + +<p>"No. If mademoiselle will honor me I—"</p> + +<p>"I also have danced many times, monsieur, and am inclined to rest a +little."</p> + +<p>Barrington looked at her, and a pair of violet eyes met his glance +through her mask, deep, almost unfathomable eyes, difficult to read and +filled with the light that lures men on to strange and wonderful things. +Her auburn hair had brown and darker shadows in it, the color one may +see in a distant wood in late autumn when the sun touches it; her +transparent skin was delicately tinted, such a tint as may be seen in +rare china. Her small, well-shaped mouth seemed made for smiles, yet +there was a line of firmness in it suggestive of determination. There +was a cadence in her voice, a musical rise and fall which held an +appeal. The lines of her figure were graceful, there was youth and vigor +in every movement, and without being above the medium height, the pose +of her head on her shapely shoulders gave her a certain air of +stateliness, natural and becoming to her it seemed. She was a woman +designed for happiness and laughter, Barrington thought, and he felt she +was not happy. He wondered if there were not tears in those violet eyes, +and he had a sudden longing to behold her without a mask. It would have +been easy for her to make him again forget his mission, and why he was +in the château of Beauvais. Youth recognized youth, and that indefinite +longing which is a part of youth seemed to enfold them for an instant. +Perhaps the woman felt it as much as he did, for she broke the silence +rather abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I have noticed that monsieur has not entered much into the gayety."</p> + +<p>Barrington was on his guard in a moment. He could not afford to be +questioned too closely.</p> + +<p>"I am greatly honored by mademoiselle's notice."</p> + +<p>"That is nothing," she returned as though the implied compliment +displeased her. "It seemed to me you were a stranger in Beauvais, and +strangers here may have sad memories behind them."</p> + +<p>"They do their best to forget, mademoiselle," he answered. The laughter +of a woman as she passed, dancing, gave point to the assertion. "It is +wonderful. I cannot understand it."</p> + +<p>"Better laugh and live than die weeping," she said. "Those who live +shall live to repay."</p> + +<p>"And perchance some good shall come out of the evil."</p> + +<p>She looked at him quickly.</p> + +<p>"In Beauvais it is somewhat dangerous to be a philosopher, monsieur. We +cling to one idea which by brutal force has been driven into our +souls—revenge. It is not safe to preach anything short of that, we have +suffered too much."</p> + +<p>"There was not such a deep meaning in my words," he said.</p> + +<p>"Still, the warning may not be out of place," and she turned to leave +him.</p> + +<p>"Before I go, mademoiselle, you may help me. Can you tell me where I +shall find Mademoiselle St. Clair?"</p> + +<center> +<img src='images/2.jpg' width='424' height='600' alt='"Can you tell me where I shall find Mademoiselle St. Clair?"' title='"Can you tell me where I shall find Mademoiselle St. Clair?"'> +</center> + +<p>"You know her?"</p> + +<p>"Only by the description I have had of her."</p> + +<p>"I wonder almost it was not sufficient to help you," and a smile played +at the corners of her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, mademoiselle, I marvel at it, too, for I assure you the +description was most complete," laughed Barrington.</p> + +<p>"From whom did you have it?"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me if I am reticent on that point. It was given in confidence."</p> + +<p>"You pique my curiosity."</p> + +<p>"But you know her, mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes."</p> + +<p>"Cannot you guess how a man might describe her, with a desire perhaps to +be a little witty at her expense, and inclined to exaggerate?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I cannot. Have you some message for her which I may deliver?"</p> + +<p>"Again pardon, but I must speak to the lady myself."</p> + +<p>"So far I can help you. If you will follow me, not too closely lest we +cause comment, I will bring you to her. I am supposing that you wish to +see her alone, that what you have to tell her is a secret."</p> + +<p>"It is a secret, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Follow me, then. And monsieur will do well to note if any one shows +interest in our movements. We did not leave all intrigue and scandal +behind us."</p> + +<p>It was easy to follow her. She was a woman apart from all the other +women about him, Barrington thought. Although he had only seen her +masked he would know her again, he believed, no matter in how crowded a +world of women he might meet her, no matter how long a time should pass +before such a meeting. Obeying her, he glanced swiftly to right and left +as he went. Eyes certainly turned to look after the woman, once or twice +indeed she stopped to speak a few words to some friend, but Barrington +could not discover that any one took the slightest notice of him.</p> + +<p>A few paces separating them they crossed the great hall, and she +leisurely passed into the corridor without. When Barrington stepped +slowly into the corridor, he found that she had quickened her pace, and +at the end of it she had paused a moment that he might see which way she +turned. He followed more quickly, and found her in a small vestibule, +part of the old château. A lamp was hanging from the corner of a wall, +and on an oak settle were two or three lanterns with candles in them, +such as a servant carries to guide his master or mistress on a dark +night.</p> + +<p>"Will monsieur light one from the lamp," she said hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"I am to wait here while you fetch mademoiselle?" he asked. "Truly this +is a secret place for delivering a message."</p> + +<p>"Not too secret," she answered. "I am Mademoiselle St. Clair."</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>The exclamation was a whispered one. A confusion of thoughts was in his +brain. Already almost unconsciously he had laid the foundations of a +dream fabric, and these were destroyed suddenly, burying him for a +moment in the collapse.</p> + +<p>"May I see monsieur unmasked?" she said.</p> + +<p>Mechanically he removed the mask, and she looked into his face +earnestly. She gave no sign whether she expected to recognize him, but +it would seem that his face satisfied her, for she undid her mask and +stood before him. She was a woman, and beauty must ever be the keenest +weapon in woman's armory; there was a little glad triumph in her heart +as she realized that this man bowed before her beauty. Barrington was +startled that a mask could hide so much.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur has been somewhat misled, it would seem, by his friend who +was witty at my expense and inclined to exaggerate."</p> + +<p>"I have been deceived, and I shall punish him for the lie," Barrington +answered.</p> + +<p>"I am at a loss to understand the deceit," she answered. "You have a +message for me. I may find some explanation in it."</p> + +<p>"Upon the roadside as I—" Barrington began, and then stopped. +"Mademoiselle, forgive me, but such deceit makes a man suspicious. I was +told to seek Mademoiselle St. Clair in a fat, ugly, simpering woman, and +I find her in—in you. How can I be certain that you are Mademoiselle +St. Clair?"</p> + +<p>"I see your difficulty. Your doubt does not anger me. Let me think. Will +it help you if I speak the name Lucien?"</p> + +<p>"It seems convincing. Heaven grant, mademoiselle, that you are as +honorable as you are beautiful. I must needs believe so and trust you. +To you I can prove that I am an honest messenger," and Barrington tore +from the lining of his coat a tiny packet of tissue paper. "I have to +give you this little golden star, your gift to Lucien."</p> + +<p>She took the packet with quick, trembling fingers, turned to the table, +and by the light of the lantern unfolded the paper. With a little clink +the star fell upon the table.</p> + +<p>"This? This?" she said, starting back and pointing at it.</p> + +<p>Barrington made a step forward at her sudden question, and then stood +still, staring at the token.</p> + +<p>It was no star of gold which lay in the circle of the lantern light, but +a common thing of iron, roughly made, rusted and worthless.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE WOOD END</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Richard Barrington knew that he had fallen into some trap, the exact +nature of it and the danger he could not know. After a pause, a long +pause it seemed to Jeanne St. Clair, long enough for a villain to +fashion a lying tale, he turned to her.</p> + +<p>"It seems, mademoiselle, that I have been robbed as well as deceived."</p> + +<p>"In spite of that," she said, pointing to the iron token, "I am inclined +to listen to the message."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I regret that I ever undertook to carry it. I had other +business in hand, but an oath to a dead man was binding."</p> + +<p>"A dead man? Lucien?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing of Lucien. For all I know he may already be making merry +at my discomfiture. The dead man was one Rouzet, or so he told me, and +he called himself your servant."</p> + +<p>"He was Lucien's servant, a faithful one," she answered.</p> + +<p>"At least he was faithful in some one's service since he died in it, and +I can honor him for that even though he deceived me."</p> + +<p>"You have told me so much you must tell me more," she said, a persuasive +tone in her voice.</p> + +<p>She must hear the story. Whether this man were honest or not she must +make him speak. Whatever plot was on foot she must know it. To some one +surely Lucien had given the gold star. Much must depend on her receiving +the message he had sent with it.</p> + +<p>"You must tell me," she repeated.</p> + +<p>"And knowing far more than I do you may laugh at me for a simple +gentleman easily fooled. Still, he is something of a hero who can stand +being laughed at. Many years ago I had that from a countryman of yours, +the Marquis de Lafayette. I was on my way to visit him in Paris, when +this mission was thrust upon me."</p> + +<p>Concisely but in every detail Barrington told her what had happened at +Trémont, and explained how he had become acquainted with Monsieur le +Comte at Beauvais. He made no attempt to conceal the fact that he had +come to France to place himself at the disposal of Monsieur de +Lafayette. If there were any risk in telling this woman so, he was +rather relieved to have real danger to face instead of lying and +intrigue; the one he might meet successfully, but he was no adept in +battling with the other.</p> + +<p>"You took the star from Rouzet's coat after he was dead you say, are you +sure it was a gold star you took?"</p> + +<p>"I made certain by looking at it."</p> + +<p>"And you can thoroughly trust your servant?"</p> + +<p>"As myself, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"You have not told me your name," she said.</p> + +<p>"Richard Barrington," he answered, and then he laughed a little. "Why I +trust you, I do not know. I may be putting it into your power to do me a +great deal of harm."</p> + +<p>"If I have the power, I shall not use it," she answered.</p> + +<p>There was a moment coming when she would have to decide whether these +words constituted a promise given without reservation, or whether the +promise were contingent on his being honest, as now she believed him to +be.</p> + +<p>"For that I thank you," he returned.</p> + +<p>"And you have my thanks for coming to Beauvais. That you have been +robbed only makes it clearer how bitter Lucien's enemies are. Have you +any plan, Monsieur Barrington, by which I could reach Paris in safety?"</p> + +<p>The question set his thoughts rushing into a new channel. He felt +suddenly responsible for her, knew that to prevent her going even into +the shadow of harm he was prepared to face any danger. It was not her +beauty which influenced him, a moment ago he had been ready to despise +it if she were a deceitful woman; something more subtle than her beauty +appealed to him, herself, the revelation of herself which was in her +question.</p> + +<p>"It is impossible for you to go to Paris, mademoiselle. The crowd of +refugees in this château is proof enough that the danger is too great. +How any man, no matter what his need may be, could ask you to put +yourself in such jeopardy, I cannot understand."</p> + +<p>"Yet you undertook to bring the message to Beauvais. Was it in your mind +to advise that no notice should be taken of it?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, mademoiselle, I thought of little beyond fulfilling the oath I +had taken, and to go my way again as quickly as possible."</p> + +<p>"The answer to the message must rest with me, Monsieur Barrington," she +said, quietly. "It was not by my own will that I left Paris. I am not +afraid to return. Will you help me?"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I——"</p> + +<p>"Please, Monsieur Barrington. It means life or death, perchance, to the +man I love."</p> + +<p>"Curse him for asking you to face such a danger."</p> + +<p>"Hush, you cannot understand," she said, putting her hand upon his arm. +"I know Lucien. From Beauvais you will journey to Paris. Will you let me +go with you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I will not help you to your destruction. I will carry whatever +message you will to this man, but I will not do more."</p> + +<p>"Then take this message: Jeanne St. Clair is on her way to Paris; she +asked my escort, but since I would not give it she has found another. +Tell him that, Monsieur Barrington."</p> + +<p>"Have you no fear, mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"For myself—none."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I will try and see you safely into Paris. You will go most +easily as a woman of the people, one who has some aristocrat enemy on +whom she wishes to be avenged. Do you think you can play such a part?"</p> + +<p>"I will do as you bid me."</p> + +<p>"Hide your hair, mademoiselle; wear some hideous cloak which may do +something to spoil your beauty. If you will go, I may be a safer escort +than any other. I claim friendship with Monsieur de Lafayette, so I am +for the people. Even if we cause suspicion they will hardly prevent our +going to Paris. Your return——"</p> + +<p>"We need not arrange for that now, monsieur. When will you start?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow at dawn," she answered. "At the foot of the road leading up +to Beauvais, you will see to your left a wood which ends abruptly as it +approaches the valley down which we must go to the frontier. I have +papers that shall help me to pass. I have always known that I should +have to return to Paris. Amongst the trees at the end of the wood I will +come to you to-morrow—at dawn."</p> + +<p>"I and my servant will await you there, mademoiselle. At least two men +shall do their utmost to protect you."</p> + +<p>He picked up her mask which had fallen to the floor.</p> + +<p>"Will you fasten it for me?" she said.</p> + +<p>It was rather clumsily done. His fingers trembled a little as they +touched her hair. He was very close to her; her personality, the faint +perfume about her, took fast hold of him. What manner of man could this +Lucien be who had won the love of such a woman as this?</p> + +<p>He put on his own mask, and then taking up the lantern followed her back +along the narrow stone passage. As she came to the corridor she stopped.</p> + +<p>"Let me go alone," she said. "To-night we will not meet again. To-morrow +at dawn."</p> + +<p>Barrington did not return to the ballroom, but after lingering in the +great hall for a few minutes with a view of deceiving any one who might +be watching his movements, he left the château. So far he had fulfilled +his oath, but he had discharged it only to accept a much greater +responsibility. To-morrow he would be riding towards Paris, the cavalier +of a beautiful aristocrat. The position must be full of danger for him; +truly it was thrust upon him against his will, yet there was an +elasticity in his step as he went back to his lodgings which suggested +compensations in the position. By a strange chain of circumstances, +Jeanne St. Clair had come into his life; there was something added to +the mere fact of living, whether of joy or pain he could not determine, +but he was very sure that his outlook upon life could never be quite the +same again. For good or ill this woman must influence him to some +extent, she could never pass out of his life again, leaving him as he +was before. There was a fresh wind blowing across the square of +Beauvais, yet it was powerless to disperse the subtle perfume which +lingered about him, which was an enfolding atmosphere, which must remain +with him always. He told his tale to Seth in a short, direct manner, +emphasizing no single point in it. The star had been stolen, when or how +he did not attempt to guess. Monsieur le Comte had grossly deceived +them, his purpose time would show. The woman was as far removed from his +description as pole is from pole. He had delivered his message, but +circumstances decreed that they could not return alone.</p> + +<p>Seth listened to his young master, and made no comment until the tale +was ended.</p> + +<p>"She is a beautiful woman, then."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think that would be the world's opinion. It is not her beauty +which has influenced me."</p> + +<p>"Still, the future might have had less difficulty in it if a man had +quarrelled with you to-night instead of a woman pleaded," Seth answered.</p> + +<p>"True enough, but one cannot choose the difficulties he will face. We +must take them as they come, and console ourselves with the reflection +that there is a good purpose somewhere behind them."</p> + +<p>"For all that, Master Richard, there are some who overburden themselves +with difficulties which do not concern them. It will be pleasant +traveling with a pretty woman, but I fancy trouble is likely to ride in +our company, too. They mostly go together, women and trouble; and the +prettier the women are, the greater the trouble, that's my experience. +There's just one question in my mind: on which side are we ranged—with +the people or with the aristocrats?"</p> + +<p>"With the people. Once this woman is in Paris, I——"</p> + +<p>Seth looked at him, waiting for the completion of the sentence. It +remained unfinished.</p> + +<p>"A wise pause, Master Richard. Who can tell what may happen in Paris? +Indeed, we may never reach Paris. At dawn, you said. That gives little +time for rest. In these hills the sun gets up early."</p> + +<p>Dim twilight was on all the plain, darkness in the wood, when Richard +Barrington and Seth tied their horses to a tree and awaited the coming +of Jeanne St. Clair at the wood end. Ever the first to catch the fire +from the upcoming day, the summits of the great double mountain which +dominated the country blushed a faint rose color which each instant +glowed brighter and clearer, and then peak after peak was caught by the +same rose flush, and light, like a gracious benediction, fell slowly +into valley and gorge, while myriad shades of color pulsated into new +life in earth and sky. The two men watched this magic beauty of the dawn +in silence. So wondrous was it, so majestic, so far beyond the schemes +and thoughts of insignificant man, that it was almost impossible not to +see in it some portent, something of promise or warning. Even Seth, +practical and farseeing as he was, forgot the actualities of life for a +little space, while Richard's dreams took flight into that upper world +of rosy flame and forgot the deep valleys, dark with difficulty and +danger. This new day which was being born was perfect, with a beauty his +eyes had never seen before; the woman he waited for was perfect, too, a +revelation. She and the dawn filled his soul. They were more real than +anything past, present, or to come, and his being sang a Te Deum of +thanksgiving.</p> + +<p>"She should be here," he said, turning to Seth and speaking in a hushed +voice without knowing that he did so.</p> + +<p>Seth laid his hand sharply upon his arm, and pointed through the trees +to the road which came down to the plain from Beauvais. Four men were +approaching, walking quickly and talking together. They came straight +towards the end of the wood as men having a purpose.</p> + +<p>"Quick! The horses!" said Barrington. "Draw back farther into the wood +and let them pass."</p> + +<p>Holding their horses, and hidden among the trees, they watched the men +come to the spot where they had been a moment or two before. Here they +stopped, looked round on every side and listened.</p> + +<p>"They are looking for us," Seth whispered. "It may be the lady cannot +come and has sent them to tell us so."</p> + +<p>"Four of them!" Barrington said.</p> + +<p>He did not move. These men were not lackeys, they were gentlemen. +Barrington wondered whether they had chosen this secluded spot to settle +some private quarrel of last night's making.</p> + +<p>"Scented danger and gone," said one.</p> + +<p>Another shook his head and stared into the depths of the wood before +him with such a keen pair of eyes that Barrington believed he must be +seen.</p> + +<p>"Not a man to run from danger," he said, "unless mademoiselle were +strangely deceived."</p> + +<p>The remark decided Barrington's course of action. He stepped forward +followed by Seth, who tied up the horses again and then took up a +position behind his master.</p> + +<p>"Are you seeking me, gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"If your name be Monsieur Barrington," the man with the keen eyes +answered.</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>The four men bowed low and Barrington did the same.</p> + +<p>"My companion thought we were too late," said the spokesman, "but I had +a different opinion. We are four gentlemen devoted to Mademoiselle St. +Clair, and she has charged us with a commission."</p> + +<p>"You are very welcome unless you bring bad news," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"For you it may be," was the answer with a smile. "Mademoiselle will not +need you to escort her to Paris."</p> + +<p>Barrington had not sought such an honor. Until the moment he had +fastened her mask, touching her hair and touched by her personality, he +would rather have been without the honor; now he was disappointed, +angry. She had found another escort and despised him. She was as other +women, unreliable, changeable, inconstant.</p> + +<p>"You bring some proof that mademoiselle has entrusted you with this +message."</p> + +<p>"This," was the answer, and the man held up the little iron star.</p> + +<p>"I am not greatly grieved to be relieved of such a responsibility, +gentlemen," said Barrington, with a short laugh. "Perhaps you will tell +mademoiselle so."</p> + +<p>"Pardon, but monsieur hardly understands. For some purpose monsieur came +to Beauvais with an attempt to deceive mademoiselle with this little +iron trinket. It is not possible to let such a thing pass, and it is +most undesirable that monsieur should be allowed to have the opportunity +of again practicing such deceit. Mademoiselle listened to him, feigned +to be satisfied with his explanation, in fact, met deceit with deceit. +My opinion was that half a dozen lackeys should be sent to chastise +monsieur, but mademoiselle decided otherwise. You were too good to die +by a lackey's hand, she declared, therefore, monsieur, we are here."</p> + +<p>"Four gentlemen for six lackeys!" laughed Barrington. "It is a strange +computation of values."</p> + +<p>"The methods are different," was the answer. "I think we do you too much +honor, but mademoiselle has willed it. We have already arranged our +order of precedence, and monsieur has the pleasure of first crossing +swords with me. If his skill is greater than mine, then he will have the +pleasure of meeting these other gentlemen. You have my word for +honorable treatment, but it is necessary that the fight is to the +death."</p> + +<p>"And my servant here?"</p> + +<p>The man shrugged his shoulders. Seth was beneath his consideration.</p> + +<p>"There would have been fewer words with the lackeys' method, I presume," +said Barrington. "I am not inclined to fight a duel."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur is a little afraid."</p> + +<p>"As you will."</p> + +<p>"Afraid as well as being a liar and deceiver of women?"</p> + +<p>"As much one as the other," Barrington answered carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Then, monsieur, I am afraid we shall have to employ lackeys' methods."</p> + +<p>"Now we come to level ground and understand each other," said +Barrington. "There is no quarrel between us which a duel may settle. You +are four men bound together to take my life if you can, but you shall +not have the chance of taking it with a semblance of honesty by calling +it a duel. You attack two travellers; if you can, rob them of what you +will."</p> + +<p>"That's better, Master Richard, I'm a poor hand at understanding jargon +of this kind, but I have an idea of how to deal with thieves and +murderers."</p> + +<p>"Be careful, Seth," Barrington whispered.</p> + +<p>The attack was immediate and sharp, without ceremony, and determined. +Misunderstanding Barrington's attitude they were perhaps a little +careless, believing him a coward at heart. Their methods, too, were +rather those of the duelist than the fighter, and this gave Barrington +and Seth some advantage. The keen-eyed man was as ready with his sword +as with his tongue. He had been confident of saving his companions from +soiling their blades had Richard consented to cross swords with him, and +he advanced upon his enemy to bring the battle to a speedy conclusion. +He even waved his companions aside, and it was with him Barrington had +first to deal. Their blades were the first to speak, and in a moment the +Frenchman knew that he had no mean swordsman to do with.</p> + +<p>"This would have been keen pleasure had you been a gentleman," he said.</p> + +<p>Barrington did not answer. He was armed for real warfare, his weapon +was heavier than his opponent's and he took advantage of the fact. This +was fighting, not dueling; and he beat the weapon down, snapping the +blade near the hilt. The next moment the other Frenchman had engaged him +fiercely.</p> + +<p>With Seth there was even greater advantage. He was a servant and a +lackey, and the punctilious gentlemen opposed to him were not inclined +to cross swords with him. They looked to see him show fear, the very +last thing in the world he was likely to do. Seth's arm was long and his +method of fighting more or less his own, the most unceremonious, +possibly, that these gentlemen had ever had to do with. Deeply cut in +the wrist one man dropped his sword. In a moment Seth's foot was upon +it, and as he turned to meet his other adversary he had taken a pistol +from his pocket.</p> + +<p>The Frenchman uttered an exclamation of surprise, and Seth laughed.</p> + +<p>"If not the sword point, a bullet; either will serve," he said.</p> + +<p>Then Seth was conscious of two things, one a certainty, the other +imagination perhaps. Across his enemy's shoulder he caught sight of the +road which led up to Beauvais, and down it came two men running towards +the wood. After all, their opponents were to be six instead of four. +This was certain. His master was separated from him by a few paces, and +it seemed to Seth that he was being hard pressed. At any rate, if it +were not so, the two men running towards them must turn the scale. +Feigning a vigorous onslaught upon his opponent, who was already +somewhat disconcerted, Seth deliberately fired at the man fighting his +master, who fell backwards with a cry.</p> + +<p>"Seth!" Richard exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Look! there are two more running to the attack. This is a time to waive +ceremony and be gone. To horse, Master Richard!"</p> + +<p>The keen-eyed man, who had been powerless being without a sword, now +caught up the weapon which the fallen man had dropped.</p> + +<p>"There's another pistol shot if you move," cried Seth, with one foot in +the stirrup.</p> + +<p>It is doubtful whether the threat would have stopped him, but the two +men suddenly running towards him through the trees did. He knew them and +they were not expected.</p> + +<p>Barrington and Seth seized the opportunity, and putting spurs to their +horses were riding towards the head of the valley which led down to the +frontier. They broke into a gallop as soon as they reached the road, and +for some time neither of them spoke.</p> + +<p>"Had we waited the whole of Beauvais would have been upon us. All's fair +in war."</p> + +<p>"And in love, they say," Barrington added.</p> + +<p>A low growl expressed Seth's opinion on this point.</p> + +<p>"Right, Seth, right," was the bitter answer. "I have had my lesson, and +enough of women for a lifetime. You have your wish. We ride alone to +Paris."</p> + +<p>The two men who entered the wood as Barrington and Seth rode out of it +were lackeys, and ran to their master.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur! Monsieur!"</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked with an angry oath.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, there is some mistake. Mademoiselle St. Clair left Beauvais +last night before the dance was over at the château."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>TWO PRODUCTS OF THE REVOLUTION</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>In the Rue Valette, a street of long memory, down which many students +had passed dreaming, Calvin not least among them, there was a baker's +shop at the corner of an alley. Students still walked the streets, and +others, dreaming too, after a fashion, but not much of books. In these +days there were other things to dream of. Life moved quickly, crowdedly, +down the Rue Valette, and this baker's shop had gathered more than one +crowd about it in recent days. Life and such a shop Were linked +together, linked, too, with government. Give us bread, was one of the +earliest cries in the Revolution. Is not bread, the baker's shop, the +real center of all revolutions?</p> + +<p>Behind this shop, entered by the alley, was a narrow courtyard, not too +clean a depository for rubbish and broken articles, for refuse as well, +which on hot days sent contamination into the air. A doorway, narrow and +seldom closed, gave directly on to a stairway, and on the first landing, +straight in front of the stairs, was a door always closed, usually +locked, yet at a knock it would be immediately opened. Behind it two +rooms adjoined, their windows looking into the court. The furniture was +sparse and common, the walls were bare, no more than a worn rug was upon +the floor, but on a hanging shelf there were books, and paper and pens +were on a table pushed against the wall near the window. The lodging of +a poor student, a descendant, and little altered, of generations of +students' lodgings known in this city of Paris since it had first been +recognized as the chief seat of learning in Europe.</p> + +<p>The student himself sat at the table, a book opened before him. He was +leaning back in his chair, thoughtfully, his mind partly fixed on what +he had been reading, partly on other matters. He was not only a student, +but a man of affairs besides. For most men the affairs would have closed +the books permanently, they were sufficient, full enough of ambition and +prospect, to do so, but Raymond Latour was not as other men. Life was a +long business, not limited by the fiery upheaval which was shaking the +foundations of social order. There was the afterwards, when the +excitement would be burned out, when the loud orators and mad +enthusiasts should find no occupation because none wished to hear them +talk. The sudden tide sweeping them into prominence for a moment would +assuredly destroy many and leave others stranded and useless, but for a +few there was the realization of ambition. Those few must have power to +grapple with their surroundings, brains to hold fast to the high +position upon which the tide wave must fling them. Of these Raymond +Latour would be. The determination was expressed in every feature, in +the steel gray eyes, in the firm set mouth, in the square and powerful +build of the man. Nature had given him inches above his fellows, muscles +which made them courteous to him; and study had given him the power to +use men. His ability was recognized and appreciated, his companions had +thrust him into prominence, at the first somewhat against his will, but +carried on the crest of the wave of popularity one easily becomes +ambitious. He was of the Jacobins Club, almost as constant an attendant +there as Robespierre himself, holding opinions that were not to be +shaken. He was not of those who had thought the Jacobins slow and had +massed themselves, with Danton and the Club of the Cordeliers, nor was +he with the milder Lafayette and the Feuillants Club; he was no blind +follower of any party, yet he was trusted without being thoroughly +understood. It was difficult to decide which held the higher place with +him, his country or his own interests. He could not have answered the +question himself as he leaned back in his chair, a flood of thoughts +rushing through his brain, one thought more prominent than the rest, +destined perchance to absorb all others.</p> + +<p>There were footsteps on the stairs without, and a knocking at the door. +The visitor had swaggered up the Rue Valette, conscious that some turned +to look at him as a man to be feared and respected, yet his manner +changed as he passed through the alley, the swagger lessened with each +step he mounted, and when Latour opened the door to him, the visitor was +full of respect, almost cringing respect. Here was a strange caricature +of equality!</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Sabatier, I was thinking of you. What news?"</p> + +<p>"The best. She has come. To-night she is a league from Paris at the +tavern of the Lion d'Or on the Soisy road."</p> + +<p>"Good news, indeed," Latour answered, and a flush came into his face as +he turned away from his visitor as though to hide some weakness in his +character. "How was it accomplished?"</p> + +<p>"By Mercier turning first thief, then aristocrat, and playing each part +so well that it seems to me he is now doubtful which he is. I have only +just returned from the Lion d'Or."</p> + +<p>"You saw her?"</p> + +<p>"No, citizen. She is still in ignorance of her destination in Paris."</p> + +<p>"She comes here to-morrow," said Latour, sharply, and his steel gray +eyes were suddenly fixed on Sabatier as though they went straight to his +soul with the penetration of a shoemaker's awl. "She is to be delivered +to me, and you and the others had best forget that you have been engaged +on any private mission."</p> + +<p>"It is easy to serve Citizen Latour," Sabatier said.</p> + +<p>"Spoken as a brother," was the answer. "It is advantageous to serve him +as it would be dangerous to play him false, eh? Sabatier, my friend, +most of us have some private revenge locked away in our hearts, the lack +of opportunity alone prevents our satisfying it. In these times there is +much opportunity, it is that alone which makes us seem more vindictive +than men in more peaceable circumstances. Forget that you have helped me +to mine, do not ask what form that revenge is to take. I may some day +help you to yours and be as secret and reticent."</p> + +<p>"I shall not forget the promise," Sabatier returned, and it was easy to +see that he was pleased with the confidence placed in him.</p> + +<p>"First thing in the morning get to the inn and tell Mercier and Dubois +to bring her here. She must be made to understand that her safety +depends upon it. They need tell her nothing more."</p> + +<p>Sabatier had his hand upon the door to depart when Latour stopped him.</p> + +<p>"What about the man who was robbed, this aristocrat you found at +Trémont?"</p> + +<p>"Safe in Beauvais, citizen, where he is likely to remain. I put fear +into him at Trémont and he ran."</p> + +<p>"He may come to Paris."</p> + +<p>"Then he is easily dealt with," Sabatier answered, and went out.</p> + +<p>He was a friend of Citizen Latour, a trusted friend; his swagger was +greater than ever as he went down the Rue Valette.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later Raymond Latour passed along the street, avoiding +publicity rather than courting it. He walked quickly until he came to +the Rue St. Honoré, when his pace slackened a little and he grew more +thoughtful. His whole scheme was complete, and he reviewed every point +of it to make certain there was no flaw in it. He became suddenly +conscious of a man walking in front of him, one of many in the street +yet distinct from them all. He was slight, so slight that he seemed +tall, walked delicately, something feminine about him, a weak man, +perhaps, whom strong men would despise; yet heads were turned to look +after him, and a second glance found something definite and determined +in the delicate walk, something feline. He went forward noticing none, +straight forward, men of bigger bulk stepping out of his path. Latour, +whose thoughts were of self just now, not of country, went more slowly +still. He had no desire to overtake this man although he knew him well, +and dawdled until he saw him enter a cabinet-maker's shop. All Paris +knew that here Maximilian Robespierre had his lodging.</p> + +<p>Latour quickened his pace and entered a house at the corner of a side +street. Yes, his master, the Citizen Bruslart was in, was the answer to +his inquiry, and the suspicion of a smile touched Latour's face at the +man's hesitation. After waiting a few moments he was announced, and +smiled again a little as he entered a room on the first floor, it was so +unlike his own, even as the occupant was unlike him.</p> + +<p>"You favor me by this visit," said Bruslart, rising to welcome his +guest.</p> + +<p>"You have not yet heard the reason of it."</p> + +<p>If Latour expected his host to show any sign of anxiety he was +disappointed, and it was the man's nature to respect courage even in an +enemy. He hardly counted Bruslart as such, outwardly indeed they were +friends. Had Lucien Bruslart been a coward he would hardly have occupied +such an apartment as this and surrounded himself with so much luxury. +There was danger in luxury, yet it was a part of the man, fitted him, +was essential to him. He called himself citizen, sought the society of +patriots, talked as loudly as any. He had talked to such purpose that, +arrested and imprisoned as a dangerous aristocrat, he had been released +and welcomed as a true son of Paris. For all this, he was an aristocrat +to his finger tips, hated the very atmosphere of a true patriot, and +washed their touch from his hands with disgust. His own interests were +his paramount concern, he was clever enough to deceive friends and foes +as it suited him; even Latour was doubtful how to place him. He was a +handsome man, and had found that count for something even in +Revolutionary Paris; he was a determined man, with wit, and that art of +appearing to hide nothing. An aristocrat! By the misfortune of birth +that was all. A patriot! It was a safe profession. Luxury! Why not?</p> + +<p>"Is my country in need of my services?"</p> + +<p>"Always; but this happens to be a private matter," Latour answered. +"You have been in the Conciergerie, citizen."</p> + +<p>"It is not very long since I was released," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Fear touched you in the Conciergerie."</p> + +<p>"Narrow walls and uncertainty are unpleasant. You will know what I mean +if you should ever be as unfortunate as I was."</p> + +<p>"And a servant, fearful for your safety, fled to your friends for help. +Is that so?"</p> + +<p>"I have heard it since my release. He is a faithful fellow, and acted on +his own initiative."</p> + +<p>"Entirely?" asked Latour.</p> + +<p>"Entirely. Let me be fair to him. I do not fear danger, citizen, but I +have eyes to see its existence. It exists for honest men as well as +others, and I have said to Rouzet, that was his name, 'If harm should +come to me try and carry news to those who still love me in spite of the +fact that I have turned patriot,' I even gave him a little gold trinket +that it might be known his news was true."</p> + +<p>"Since your release have you sent another messenger to prevent +Mademoiselle St. Clair from coming to Paris?"</p> + +<p>"She is coming to Paris!" Bruslart exclaimed, half rising.</p> + +<p>"Have you taken any steps to prevent her doing so?" asked Latour.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose I would have called her here on my account? She is not a +patriot. She would come to her death."</p> + +<p>"That might be a way in which you could serve your country; a decoy to +attract lovers and friends."</p> + +<p>"Are you serious? Is this the meaning of your visit?"</p> + +<p>"What is your answer to it?"</p> + +<p>"Rather the guillotine, citizen. Is the answer short and definite +enough?"</p> + +<p>"Short enough and well spoken," said Latour, with a smile. "You will +rejoice to hear that your messenger never reached mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>For an instant Bruslart seemed surprised, but it was impossible to tell +whether it was at the failure or at the fact that his visitor knew so +much.</p> + +<p>"If you can assure me this is true, I shall rejoice," he said. "I have +been imprudent. It did not occur to me that she might come to Paris."</p> + +<p>"A woman who loves will do much."</p> + +<p>"If she loves. Women sometimes deceive themselves and us. But tell me +how you are able to bring me this news."</p> + +<p>"You were an aristocrat, citizen, therefore suspected and watched. Your +servants were watched, too, and this man's movements were noted. He was +followed out of Paris. He was caught upon the road and questioned. Some +patriots have rough manners, as you know, and your servant was faithful, +perchance showed fight. All I know for certain is that he is dead."</p> + +<p>"Poor Rouzet," said Bruslart, covering his face with his hands for a +moment. "Poor Rouzet, I believe his family has been attached to ours for +some generations."</p> + +<p>"And were more faithful than their masters, doubtless. No, citizen, the +words do not refer to you, you are no longer an aristocrat," Latour went +on quickly. "Still, a word of friendly advice, you talk too much like +one. I understand, but the people are ignorant."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your advice. I must be myself whatever else I am."</p> + +<p>"As a patriot it would be well to think no more of mademoiselle," Latour +went on. "Such love is unnatural the people will affirm. Are there not +women in Paris as beautiful? Find one to love and there will be proof of +your patriotism."</p> + +<p>"You take much interest in me," said Bruslart.</p> + +<p>"Is there not a kind of friendship between us?" was the reply. "Were I +Lucien Bruslart, I should leave Paris. I know a man who would do +something to help him."</p> + +<p>Bruslart looked at him steadily for a moment. "Again I thank you," he +said quietly, "but, my friend, you are not the only man who is competent +to prophesy in what direction things may turn. You have set yourself a +goal to win, so have I. It would almost seem that you expect our aims to +clash."</p> + +<p>"Diable! Is that all you can see in good advice," said Latour. "I +thought your wit went deeper."</p> + +<p>"Need we quarrel?" said Bruslart.</p> + +<p>"No; let us laugh at each other. In our different ways, doubtless, we +shall both be satisfied."</p> + +<p>Latour did not often laugh, but he laughed now as he turned to the door. +The curtains over the archway leading to an inner room swayed outwards +with the draught as he opened the door, and then seemed to draw back +suddenly, as Latour said good-by, still laughing. The door was closed, +the footsteps went quickly down the stairs, the curtains hung straight +for a little space. Then they parted sharply, and a woman, holding them +on either side of her, stood between them.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>A JEALOUS WOMAN</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The archway archway into the inner room was behind Bruslart, but he did +not turn as the curtains parted. He knew the woman was hidden in that +room, she had gone there when Latour was announced; he knew that she +must have overheard the conversation, that she would ask questions, but +for the moment he was absorbed in Latour's news. That Rouzet had failed +to reach Beauvais was a disaster he had not reckoned upon.</p> + +<p>"Lucien!"</p> + +<p>"My direct and opinionated friend has gone, Pauline, you may come out of +hiding."</p> + +<p>Still for a moment the woman stood there grasping the curtains, as +though she would will the man to turn and look at her. She was angry, +the flash in her eyes Was evidence of the fact, yet she was not +unconscious of the picture she made at that moment. A woman is seldom +angry enough to forget her beauty. Beautiful she certainly was, or +Lucien Bruslart would have taken little interest in her. Beauty was as +necessary to him as luxury, and in this case was even more dangerous. +Here was another proof that he was no coward, or he would surely not +have placed himself in the hands of Pauline Vaison. She was dark, her +figure rather full, voluptuous yet perfect in contour. Her movements +were quick, virile, full of life, seductive yet passionate. She was a +beautiful young animal, her graces all unstudied, nature's gifts, a +dangerous animal if roused, love concealing sharp claws ready to tear in +pieces if love were spurned. Her personality might have raised her to +power in the dissolute Court of the fifteenth Louis, even in this Paris +of revolution she might play a part.</p> + +<p>Letting the curtains fall together she came and faced Lucien, who looked +at her and smiled.</p> + +<p>"I heard all he said. I listened."</p> + +<p>"Interesting, wasn't it?" Lucien answered. "It is a marvel to me how +fast news travels, and how important unimportant things become. I +shouldn't Wonder if he knows exactly what I have eaten to-day."</p> + +<p>"Paris knows something of Latour," she answered. "He is not a man to +waste his time over trifles."</p> + +<p>"It certainly appears that he considers me of some consequence since he +troubled to visit me."</p> + +<p>"And you lied to him."</p> + +<p>"My dear Pauline, you are imaginative. Kiss me. You are a delightful +creature. I never spend an hour in your company but I discover some new +grace in you."</p> + +<p>Her kisses were not to be had when she was angry.</p> + +<p>"You lied to him and you have deceived me," she said, still standing +before him, her body erect, her hands clinched.</p> + +<p>"It is not always advisable to speak the exact truth, you know that well +enough, Pauline; but I have not deceived you. Does a man deceive the +woman he really loves?"</p> + +<p>"The lie and the deceit are one," she returned. "You sent for this other +woman, this Mademoiselle St. Clair. It was not your servant's plan. +Latour was a fool to believe you."</p> + +<p>"Was he? My dear, wise Pauline, his point of view and yours are not the +same. You are jealous, whereas he—"</p> + +<p>"I stop at nothing when I am jealous," she said. "The sooner you +discover that phase in my character the better for you, Lucien."</p> + +<p>"I discovered that after I had known you ten minutes," laughed Lucien, +"and I am not afraid. Shall I tell you why? I have not deceived you, nor +have I any intention of doing so. This Latour is too inquisitive, and +inquisitiveness is always asking for a lie. Latour got it and is quite +satisfied. Mademoiselle Pauline Vaison is a woman, a woman in love, and +just because she is so, is suspicious. All women in love are. So I have +not told her all my plans. To complete them it was necessary to get +Mademoiselle St. Clair to Paris, so I sent for her."</p> + +<p>"You are in love with her. You—"</p> + +<p>"She is rich," Bruslart answered. "Her fortune is in her own hands. +Wait, Pauline. Had I wanted to marry her, what was to prevent my +crossing the frontier when so many of my friends and acquaintances did? +But I am in love with her fortune. If I am to make myself felt in Paris, +if I am to do what I have set my heart to accomplish, money I must have. +True, I am not penniless like some of our ragged patriotic comrades, +but, believe me, power will eventually rest with the man who can scatter +the most gold to the people. That man I am scheming to be."</p> + +<p>"Therefore you would marry this woman," said Pauline.</p> + +<p>"Therefore I would obtain part of her fortune."</p> + +<p>"That is what I say; you would marry her."</p> + +<p>"No, I had not thought of that," said Bruslart, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"How, then, can you obtain it?"</p> + +<p>"Once she is in Paris, there are many plans to choose from. I have not +yet decided which one to take; but certainly it will not be marriage. +She, too, is a woman in love, and such a woman will do much for a man. A +few marks of a pen and I am rich, free to work towards my end, free to +help Mademoiselle St. Clair to return to Beauvais. You say you heard all +that Latour told me?"</p> + +<p>"Everything."</p> + +<p>"Then you heard his advice concerning marriage. Find a woman in Paris, +as beautiful, more beautiful than this emigré aristocrat, a woman who is +a patriot, a true daughter of France, marry her, prove yourself and see +how the shouting crowds will welcome you. Latour might have known this +part of my scheme, so aptly did he describe it. I have found the woman," +and he stretched out his hand to her.</p> + +<p>"Lucien!"</p> + +<p>She let him draw her down beside him, his caress was returned with +interest.</p> + +<p>"Together, you and I are going to climb, Pauline. For me a high place in +the government of France, not the short authority of a day; brains and +money shall tell their tale. Citizen Bruslart shall be listened to and +obeyed. Citizeness Bruslart shall become the rage of all Paris. Listen, +Pauline. I have cast in my lot with the people, but I have something +which the people have not, a line of ancestors who have ruled over those +about them. Revolution always ends in a strong individual, who often +proves a harder master than the one the revolution has torn from his +place. I would be that man. Two things are necessary, money and you."</p> + +<p>"And your messenger has failed to reach mademoiselle," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Another messenger may be found," he said, quietly. "Besides, it is just +possible that Latour was lying, too."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are right;" and then she jumped up excitedly, "I believe +you are right. What then? Other men may be scheming for her wealth as +well as you."</p> + +<p>"And others besides Latour have spies in the city," Bruslart answered.</p> + +<p>"You are wonderful, Lucien, wonderful, and I love you."</p> + +<p>She threw herself into his arms with an abandon which, like all her +other actions, was natural to her; and while he held her, proud of his +conquest, not all Lucien's thoughts were of love. Could Pauline Vaison +have looked into his soul, could she have seen the network of scheming +which was in his mind, the chaotic character of many of these plans, +crossing and contradicting one another, a caricature, as it were, of a +man's whole existence in which good and evil join issue and rage and +struggle for the mastery, even then she would not have understood. She +might have found that one end was aimed at more constantly than any +other—self, yet in the schemes of most men self plays the most +prominent part, and is not always sordid and altogether despicable. She +would not have understood her lover; he did not understand himself. He +was a product of the Revolution, as were thousands of others walking the +Paris streets, or busy with villainies in country places; character was +complex by force of circumstances, which, under other conditions, might +have been simple and straightforward. With some a certain +straightforwardness remained, not always directed to wrong ends. It was +so in Lucien Bruslart. It was not easy for him to be a scoundrel, and +self was not always master. Even with Pauline Vaison in his arms he +thought of Jeanne St. Clair, and shuddered at the way he had spoken of +her to this woman. What would happen if Jeanne came to Paris? For a +moment the horrible possibilities seemed to paralyze every nerve and +thought. He spoke no word, he did not cease his caressing, yet the woman +suddenly released herself as though his train of thought exerted a +subtle influence over her, and stood before him again, not angrily, yet +with a look in her eyes which was a warning. So an animal looks when +danger may be at hand.</p> + +<p>"If you were to deceive me," she said, in a low voice, almost in a +whisper, the sound of a hiss in it.</p> + +<p>"Deceive you?"</p> + +<p>It was not easily said, but a question only half comprehended, as when +one is recalled from a reverie suddenly, or awakes from a dream at a +touch.</p> + +<p>"To deceive me would be hell for both of us, for all of us," said the +woman.</p> + +<p>He tried to laugh at her, but he could not even bring a smile to his +lips at that moment.</p> + +<p>Pauline caught his hand and pulled him to the window, opened it, and +pointed.</p> + +<p>"There. You know what I mean," she said.</p> + +<p>The roar of Paris floated up to them, the daily toil, the noise of it, +its bartering, its going and coming. Men and women must live, even in a +revolution, and to live, work. Underneath it all there was something +unnatural, a murmur, a growl, the sound of an undertone, secret, cruel, +deadly; yet the woman's pointing finger was all Lucien was conscious of +just now.</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean," she repeated.</p> + +<p>He shook his head slightly, dubiously, for he partly guessed. In that +direction was the Place de la Revolution.</p> + +<p>"If this other woman should take my place, if you lied to me, I would +have my revenge. It would be easy. She is an aristocrat. One word from +me, and do you think you could save her? Yonder stands the guillotine," +and she made a downward sweep of the arm. "It falls like that. You +couldn't save her."</p> + +<p>Lucien stood looking straight before him out of the window. Pauline +still held his hand. She waited for him to speak, and when he did not, +she shook his hand.</p> + +<p>"Do you hear what I say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes" and then?"</p> + +<p>"Then, Lucien, I should have no rival. You would be mine. If not, if you +turned from me for what I had done—God! That would be awful, but I +would never forgive, never. I would speak again. I would tell them many +things. Nothing should stop me. You should die too. That is how I love. +Lucien, Lucien, never make me jealous like that."</p> + +<p>She kissed his hand passionately, then held it close to her breast. He +could feel her heart beat quickly with her excitement.</p> + +<p>"That would put an end to all my scheming, wouldn't it?" he said, +drawing her back and closing the window. "Perhaps Latour would thank +you."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't thinking of Latour," and she clung to him and kissed him on +the lips.</p> + +<p>Into Lucien's complex thought Latour had come, not unnaturally, since +this conversation. This exhibition of latent jealousy was the outcome of +his visit. Without formulating any definite idea, he felt in a vague way +that Latour's career was in some way bound up with his own. There was +something in common between them, each had an interest for the other and +in his concerns. Lucien did not understand why, but Latour might have +found an answer to the question as he went back to the Rue Valette.</p> + +<p>He was not sure whether Bruslart had spoken the truth, he did not much +care, yet he felt a twinge of conscience. It troubled him because he had +not much difficulty in salving his conscience as a rule. It was +generally easy to make the ends justify the means. He had taken no +notice of the swaying curtains as he left Bruslart. He never guessed +that a woman stood behind them. There might have been no prick of +conscience had he known of Pauline Vaison.</p> + +<p>He entered the baker's shop in the Rue Valette. Behind the little +counter, on which were a few loaves and pieces of bread, an old woman +sat knitting.</p> + +<p>"Will you give me the key of those rooms? I want to see that everything +is prepared."</p> + +<p>The old woman fumbled in her pocket and gave him the key without a word.</p> + +<p>"She comes to-morrow," said Latour. "You will not fail to do as I have +asked and look after her well."</p> + +<p>"Never fear; she shall be a pretty bird in a pretty cage."</p> + +<p>Latour paused as he reached the door. "She is a dear friend, no more nor +less than that, and this is a nest, not a cage. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>The old woman nodded quickly, and when he had gone, chuckled. She had +lived long in the world, knew men well, and the ways of them with women. +There might be some things about Citizen Latour which set him apart +from his fellows, but all men were the same concerning women.</p> + +<p>Latour crossed the courtyard and went quickly up the stairs to the +second floor. The rooms here corresponded with his own below, yet how +different they were. Everything was fresh and dainty. Cheap, but pretty, +curtains hung before the windows and about the alcove where the bed was. +The furnishing was sufficient, not rich, yet showing taste in the +choice; two or three inexpensive prints adorned the walls, and on the +toilet table were candlesticks, a china tray, and some cut-glass +bottles. The boards were polished, and here and there was a rug or strip +of carpet; the paint was fresh and white—white was the color note +throughout. Here was the greatest luxury possible to a shallow pocket, +very different from Bruslart's room, yet with a character of its own. +Latour had chosen everything in it with much thought and care. He had +spent hours arranging and rearranging until his sense of the beautiful +was satisfied. Now he altered the position of a rug, and touched a +curtain by the bed to make it fall in more graceful folds. Then he sat +down to survey his work as a whole.</p> + +<p>Still there was the prick of conscience, not very sharp, indeed, and +becoming less persistent as he argued with himself. The Raymond Latour +of to-day was a different man from the old Raymond Latour, the poor +student, the nobody. Was he not mounting the ladder rung by rung, higher +and higher every day? He had been listened to in the Legislative +Assembly, applauded; he was a man of mark in the Convention. He was +still poor, and his ambition was not towards wealth. The road lay +straight before him; it led to fame, he meant it also to lead to love. +Give him love, and these little white rooms were all the kingdom he +asked to reign in. Love, the only love that had ever touched him. He +remembered its first coming. A restive horse, a young girl in a carriage +and in danger. It was nothing to seize the horse, hold it, and quiet it; +he had flushed and stammered when the girl had thanked him, all +unconsciously casting the spell of her great beauty over him. Never +again had he spoken to her. He was only a poor student, the child of +simple folk in the country dead long ago; she was of noble birth, her +home a palace, her beauty toasted at Versailles He saw her often, +waiting to see her pass, and each day he thought of her, setting her on +the high altar of his devotion. He knew that his must always be a silent +worship, that she could never know it. Then suddenly had come the +change, the tide of revolution. The people were the masters. He was of +the people, of growing importance among them. The impossible became the +possible. He had education, power he would have. Strong men have made +their appeal to women, the world over, in every age. Why should not this +woman love him? The very stars seemed to have fought for him. She would +be here to-morrow, here in Paris, in danger; here, in these rooms, with +no man so able to protect her as himself. He had spoken among his +fellows and won applause, could he not speak to just one woman in the +world and win love?</p> + +<p>"This is a nest, not a cage," he murmured. "To-morrow, I shall speak +with her to-morrow."</p> + +<p>It must have been almost at this same moment that Pauline Vaison flung +open the window and Lucien Bruslart looked in the direction of her +pointing finger toward the Place de la Revolution.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>ON THE SOISY ROAD</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The Lion d'Or on the Soisy Road was well known to travelers. Here the +last change of horses on the journey to Paris was usually made, or, as +was often the case, a halt for the night and arrangement made for an +early departure next morning. In these days it was no place of call for +those who would leave the capital secretly. Patriots were inclined to +congregate about the Lion d'Or and to ask awkward questions. Even in +fustian garments nobility hides with difficulty from keen and suspicious +eyes. For those traveling towards Paris, however, there was not such +close scrutiny. If they were enemies of the state, Paris would deal with +them. There were lynx-eyed men at the city barriers, and a multitude of +spies in every street.</p> + +<p>To-day three travelers had halted at the Lion d'Or, travel-stained, +horses weary, going no farther until to-morrow. One of the three was a +woman, a peasant woman wearing the tri-color cockade, who was needed in +Paris to give evidence against an aristocrat. That was good news, and +better still, her fellow-travelers were undoubtedly true patriots and +had the will and the wherewithal to pay for wine. There was no need to +trouble the woman with questions. She might be left alone to gloat over +her revenge, while patriots made merry over their drinking.</p> + +<p>She was alone, in a poor room for a guest, one of the poorest in the +inn, but good enough for a peasant woman. Her companions had shown her +the advisability of choosing this room rather than another. She would be +undisturbed here after her frugal meal, except by her companions +perchance, and she had thrown back her rough cloak, showing fustian +garments beneath, yet she was a strange peasant woman surely. Hands and +face were stained a little, as though from exposure to sun and weather, +but underneath the skin was smooth. Exposure had cut no lines in the +face, labor had not hardened the hands. At the inn door her form had +seemed a little bent, but alone in this room she stood straight as an +arrow.</p> + +<p>One of her companions entered presently. Citizen Mercier he called +himself; a hateful name handle, he explained, but necessary for their +safety. He wore the tri-color, too, and plumed himself that he passed +for as good a patriot as any. He closed the door carefully.</p> + +<p>"So far we have managed well, mademoiselle. I have found a friend here +who will ride into Paris and bring us word in the morning how we can +most safely enter the city. We must be a little patient."</p> + +<p>"Did he know anything of Lucien Bruslart?"</p> + +<p>"I did not ask. It was difficult to get a moment to whisper to each +other. And I will not stay with you. It would not be wise to take too +much interest in a peasant woman," and he smiled and shrugged his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>Jeanne St. Clair continued to stare at the door after he had gone. Her +thoughts followed him as he went down the stairs to join his companions +and take his share of the wine. Lucien had chosen a strange messenger, a +friend Monsieur Mercier had called himself, yet Jeanne had never known +him nor heard of him before. He puzzled her. Loneliness, and the +circumstances in which she was placed, naturally made her thoughtful, +and it was easy to be suspicious. Truly, Monsieur Mercier had proved +himself a friend, full of ideas, full of resource, for danger had +threatened them more than once upon the long and tedious journey from +Beauvais. They had been obliged to halt at strange taverns, and there +had been many delays. Now they were within a few miles of Paris—of +Lucien. Yes, Monsieur Mercier had proved himself a friend, and yet, had +it been possible, she would sooner have called another man friend, a man +who was her enemy. How, easily she had believed him! Richard Barrington. +She spoke the name aloud, but not easily, trying to say it exactly as he +had done, and the deliberation which she gave to each syllable made the +name sound pleasant. She had not thought him a scoundrel when he +fastened her mask for her. She had been most easily deceived, taken in +by an absurd story.</p> + +<p>The truth had come quickly. Richard Barrington could hardly have left +the château when a man whispered Lucien's name in Jeanne's ear. She did +not trouble to take this man into the chamber in the round tower, but +she led him aside where he could talk without fear of being overheard. +This was some trick, but she must hear what he had to say, her safety +to-morrow might depend upon it.</p> + +<p>Monsieur Mercier introduced himself as a friend of Lucien's, and quickly +told his story. Lucien was in danger, grave danger, and mademoiselle +ought to know. For her Paris did not hold such danger as it did for +most aristocrats; it was well known that she had been good to the poor; +she would certainly be able to help Lucien. Mademoiselle knew Rouzet, +Lucien's servant; he had started for Beauvais taking with him a little +gold star which mademoiselle had given to Lucien. Not an hour afterwards +it was discovered that there were others, enemies, anxious to get +mademoiselle to Paris. Rouzet had been followed. Mercier, with a friend, +had immediately ridden after him, only, alas! to find him dead upon the +roadside and the star gone. They continued their journey toward +Beauvais, with only one clew to the scoundrel who had murdered and +robbed the faithful Rouzet. He was not a Frenchman. Even now Mercier did +not know his name, but he and his friend had distanced the foreigner and +his companion on the road and arrived first in Beauvais. Lodgings were +scarce owing to the ball, and Mercier had waited for the villains, had +taken them to a lodging next his own, nothing more than adjoining +cocklofts, but with this advantage, that part of the woodwork dividing +them could be easily removed. An invitation to wine (carefully drugged) +had followed, and during the night the golden star was retrieved from +the lining of the thief's coat; and lest he should discover the loss too +soon, and so hamper any plan which it was advisable to make, a rough-cut +iron star was left in its place. Here was the gold trinket, and glancing +round to make certain no one was watching, Mercier had put it into her +open hand.</p> + +<p>This tale must be the truth. She had made no mention of Barrington, how +could this man know of the iron cross unless his tale were true? Richard +Barrington had declared he knew nothing of Lucien, but Mercier knew +everything about him and much about her, too. She would not believe him +until she had questioned him closely. As Mercier frankly answered her, +she understood with how improbable a tale Barrington had deceived her. +Mercier was quick with advice. He knew that Madame la Marquise had no +great affection for his friend Lucien. This other man might discover the +trick played upon him and frustrate them. A hundred things might prevent +mademoiselle from leaving the château if she delayed. To-night Beauvais +was crowded, it would be easy for her to go, and Jeanne had consented to +start in an hour.</p> + +<p>She was proud, a daughter of a proud race. The nobility were suffering +many things at the hands of the people. This fellow Barrington should be +punished. Retaliation was justifiable. There was not a man in the +château of Beauvais who would not stand her champion. She sought out the +Vicomte de Montbard, told him that this foreigner had come to her with a +lying message from friends of hers in Paris. She had met deceit with +deceit, and at dawn he was to wait for her at the wood end.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, lackeys shall beat the life out of him," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"No, not that way. Go to him yourself, challenge him. If underneath his +villainy there are concealed the instincts of a gentleman, let him have +the chance of dying like one. But go with one or two others, prepared +for treachery. He may be a scoundrel to the very core of his heart."</p> + +<p>"Believe me, mademoiselle, you treat him far too courteously."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur le Vicomte, he has touched me as an equal. I believed him to +be a man of honor. Let him so far profit by my mistake, and be punished +as I suggest."</p> + +<p>"You shall be obeyed, mademoiselle. To-morrow I will do myself the honor +of visiting you to tell you how he met his punishment—his death."</p> + +<p>It was not boastfully said. The Vicomte was one of the most accomplished +swordsmen in France.</p> + +<p>Within an hour Jeanne St. Clair had left Beauvais.</p> + +<p>All this came back to her most vividly as she sat alone in that upper +room of the Lion d'Or. In what manner had Richard Barrington taken his +punishment? She despised him for his mean deceit; by her direction he +had been punished; yet with the knowledge that he was a scoundrel came +the conviction that he was a brave man. The scene in that round chamber +took shape again. It was curious how completely she remembered his +attitude, his words, his manner, his looks; and not these only, but also +the something new in her life, the awakening of an interest that she had +never before experienced. It was not his mission which aroused it, it +was not the man himself; it was only that, coincident with his coming, +some secret chamber of her soul had been unlocked, and in it were stored +new, dreams, new thoughts, new ambitions. They were added to the old, +not given in exchange for them, but they had helped her to appreciate +the man's position when he found the star was iron instead of gold, they +had helped her to believe his tale. Her short interview with this man +had suddenly widened her view of life, the horizon of her existence had +expanded into a wider circle; this expansion remained, although the man +had deceived her. In spite of that deceit there was something in this +Richard Barrington to admire, and she was glad she had demanded that +his punishment should be administered by gentlemen, not by lackeys. +Certainly he was not a coward, and no doubt he had met his death as a +brave man should. This train of thought was repeated over and over +again, and always there came a moment when out of vacancy the man's face +seemed to turn to her and their eyes met. She had not the power to look +away. There was something he would compel her to understand, yet for a +long while she could not. Then suddenly she knew. This surely was a +vision. The spirit of the dead man had come to her. Why? Jeanne muttered +a prayer, and with the prayer came a question: had she been justified in +sending this man to his death?</p> + +<p>When the vision finally passed from her she could not tell; whether she +had fallen asleep in her chair she could not tell; but coming to full +consciousness that she was alone in a mean room of a tavern on the Soisy +road, the question still hammered in her brain as though it would force +an answer from her. Was it only her loneliness and the shadows creeping +into the room which brought doubts crowding into her mind? This friend +of Lucien's, this Monsieur Mercier, what real guarantee had she of his +honesty? He had brought her the gold star. It seemed a sufficient +answer, but doubts are subtle and have many arguments. Why should she +believe his story rather than Barrington's? Might not Mercier have been +the thief? They were within a few miles of Paris. They had arrived at +the Lion d'Or early in the day, why had they not pressed on to Paris? +Their safety demanded patience, Mercier had said. Was this true? Was +this the real reason for the delay?</p> + +<p>The shadows increased, even the corners of this narrow room grew dim +and dark. There was the sound of distant laughter, loud, coarse, +raucous, many voices talking together, a shouted oath the only word +distinguishable. Was this place, crowded with so-called patriots, safer +for her than Paris? She started to her feet, suddenly urged to action. +What was Monsieur Mercier doing?</p> + +<p>She crossed the room and opened her door quietly. The passage without +was dark save for a blur of light at the end where the top of the +staircase was. Walking on tiptoe, she went toward this light. She would +at least make an effort to discover how her companions were engaged.</p> + +<p>From the top of the stairs she could see nothing, nor was it a safe +place, for the light fell on her there. She crept down the stairs which +were in darkness until she could see into the room from which the noise +came. Even when bending down and looking through the banisters she could +only see a part of the room. There were more visitors than chairs and +benches, some sat on casks standing on end, and by way of applause at +some witty sally or coarse joke, pounded the casks with their heels +until the din was almost deafening. At a table upon which were many +bottles, one or two of them broken, sat Monsieur Mercier and his comrade +Dubois, both in the first stages of intoxication when men are pleased to +have secrets and grow boastful.</p> + +<p>"There's going to be good news for you, citizens," Mercier hiccoughed. +"I've done great things, and this good fellow has helped me."</p> + +<p>Dubois smiled stupidly.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, is there any more room in the prisons, or are they filled up +with cursed aristocrats?"</p> + +<p>Jeanne held her breath. Was Mercier playing a part for her greater +security? How well he played it!</p> + +<p>"There'll be room for you and your friends," laughed a man, "or they'll +make room by cutting off a few heads. It's very easy."</p> + +<p>"There's more demand for heads than supply," growled another. "There's +some calling themselves patriots that might be spared, I say."</p> + +<p>Drumming heels greeted this opinion.</p> + +<p>"Very like," Mercier answered. "Shouldn't wonder if I could throw this +bottle and hit one or two at this moment, but I'm thinking of emigrés."</p> + +<p>A savage growl was the answer.</p> + +<p>"They're safe over the frontier, aren't they?" laughed Mercier. "They +won't bring their heads to Paris to pleasure Madame Guillotine, will +they? No," cried Mercier, clasping a bottle by the neck and striking the +table with it so that it smashed and the red wine ran like blood. "No, +they think they're safer where they are. The only way is to fetch them +back. Lie to them, cheat them until we get them in France. Then—"</p> + +<p>He slapped his hands onto the table, into the spilled wine, then held +them up and laughed as the drops fell from his finger ends. His meaning +was clear.</p> + +<p>"Bring them back, Citizen Mercier, and you'll be the first man in +Paris," said one.</p> + +<p>"That's what I am doing. I've been to Beauvais, playing the aristocrat, +and doing it so well that one cursed head is already being carried to +Paris by its owner, and others will follow."</p> + +<p>Jeanne crouched on the stairs, holding her breath.</p> + +<p>"Long live Mercier!" came the cry.</p> + +<p>There was an instant's silence, then a thud as a man jumped from a +cask, overturning it as he did so.</p> + +<p>"The woman upstairs! The peasant woman! There are plenty of heads in +Paris. Why not to-night, here, outside the Lion d'Or? Madame Guillotine +is not the only method for aristocrats."</p> + +<p>There was a shout of acclamation, a sudden rush to the room door. A man +staggering with the drink in him, fell upon the threshold, bringing two +or three companions down with him.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" Mercier cried, suddenly sober, it seemed. "She's a peasant, my +witness against an aristocrat. I'll shoot the first man who goes to +her."</p> + +<p>This was dangerous acting surely.</p> + +<p>Jeanne had started back as the rush was made. Should she make an attempt +to reach the inn door and flee into the night, or rush to her room and +lock herself in? Her room, it was safer. They would fight among +themselves, whether she was to be disturbed or not. Locked in her room +she would at least have a moment for thought. The decision came too +late. She had not seen any one reach the stairs, but even as she turned +a man was beside her—touching her.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE MAN ON THE STAIRS</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>For those wishing to leave Paris in a hurry, the Lion d'Or was a +dangerous place of call. The inn and its vigilant frequenters had +achieved a name in these days. An orator, waxing enthusiastic on +patriotism, had made mention of its doings in the Convention, and in +villages remote from the capital they were talked of. The King and Queen +would never have got as far as Varennes, it was said, had they been +obliged to travel by the Soisy road.</p> + +<p>For travelers going toward Paris there was less danger, aristocrats did +not often make that journey. Monsieur Mercier appeared to have thought +there was no danger at all, and halted for the night, but there were +travelers on the road behind him who were more cautious. They made a +wide detour by devious bypaths, and came at length to a lane which +joined the Soisy road between the Lion d'Or and Paris. They had taken +care to avoid other travelers as far as possible, and even now the sound +of a horse upon the main road made them draw into the shelter of some +trees and wait. Through the trees, only a few paces up the lane, they +had a good view of the horseman as he came.</p> + +<p>"Look, Seth!"</p> + +<p>"Our swaggering friend of Trémont," was the answer. "There has been +devil's work along this road perchance."</p> + +<p>"Sabatier," murmured Barrington.</p> + +<p>There was no doubt of it. He passed them at no greater distance than a +stone's throw, and he was a man too marked in features to be mistaken. +He went his way, unconscious of their presence, to carry his good news +to the Rue Valette in Paris.</p> + +<p>"There's something in that man's face which tells me that I shall +quarrel with him some day," said Seth. "I can't help feeling that I +shall live to see him a corpse."</p> + +<p>"We must wait a little," said Barrington. "We must not run the risk of +overtaking him."</p> + +<p>It was in no way a reply to or a comment on Seth's remark, but rather +the outcome of the recollection that Sabatier had said that all true +patriots must needs meet with him in Paris. Naturally, Sabatier was +closely associated in Barrington's mind with his self-imposed mission to +Beauvais, and his unexpected presence here on the Soisy road set him +speculating once more on the whole circumstances of his adventure. He +had had enough of women to last him a lifetime, he had declared to Seth, +and he meant it. Seth had smiled. His companion was not the first man +who had said the same thing, and yet before half the year was out had +been sighing for another woman's favor. Richard Barrington might hold to +his conviction longer than that, but there are many half years in a +lifetime, and the indefinite variety of women gave few men the chance of +escape. For the present, Seth never doubted that his master had had his +lesson, and was glad. There were periods in a man's life into which a +woman should not enter, either in reality or in thought; they were but +drags on the turning wheels of circumstance. This was such a period, and +Seth let a great load of anxiety slip from him as the distance between +them and Beauvais increased. Barrington's silence as they rode did not +undeceive him; his master was not a man who talked for the sake of +talking, yet from the moment they had driven spurs into their horses and +dashed from the wood end, Barrington had hardly ceased to speculate on +his adventure. A man does not easily forget a woman who has come to him +as a revelation even though she deceive him. The sight of Sabatier, +therefore, did not recall Jeanne St. Clair to his mind, she had hardly +been absent from his thoughts for a moment, but set him speculating in +another direction.</p> + +<p>"How far do you suppose this inn, the Lion d'Or, is along the road +yonder?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Not a mile," was the answer.</p> + +<p>Barrington nodded thoughtfully. Seth's opinion agreed with his own.</p> + +<p>"Sabatier, no doubt, came from there," he said after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Probably. We were wise to miss it. It would not have been convenient to +enter Paris in his company."</p> + +<p>There was another pause of some duration.</p> + +<p>"Has he been out hunting, stopping aristocrats?"</p> + +<p>It was hardly a question, rather a speculation unconsciously put into +words.</p> + +<p>Seth shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"It does not concern us. They may fully merit the hunting and deserve +whatever fate they meet with. I am not in love with the patriots I have +encountered, nor do I like the aristocrats I have seen any better. For +my part I would as lief sail back to Virginia and let them fight out +their own quarrel. A dog of breed has no cause to interfere in a fight +between curs."</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether we have passed mademoiselle and her escort upon the +road," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"What's in your mind, Master Richard?" asked Seth, sharply.</p> + +<p>"I have thought it strange that we did not overtake them."</p> + +<p>"Better horses, or better knowledge of the country would account for +that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but she may be at the Lion d'Or at this moment, and in the hands +of men like Sabatier."</p> + +<p>There was no need for Seth to ask questions. The burden of anxiety which +had slipped from him was suddenly at his feet again and he took it up +reluctantly. Barrington understood.</p> + +<p>"I cannot go on leaving her in such hands," he said. "Think what it may +mean. We know something of Sabatier."</p> + +<p>Seth nodded, but with no encouragement. Had he known more of Jacques +Sabatier, could he have seen the heap of ashes which had once been the +inn at Trémont and known what was hidden beneath them, his attitude +would have been different.</p> + +<p>"There may be much to excuse her for not believing in me," Barrington +went on. "We know only a little of the story. We may have been the +bearers of a lying message. With her knowledge of facts, every word I +uttered may only have convicted me of greater villainy. We have hardly +been just, Seth."</p> + +<p>"I can find no excuse for her sending us to the wood."</p> + +<p>"I can, Seth. Such a scoundrel as she may have thought me was not fit to +live. More than her own safety was at stake."</p> + +<p>"Well, Master Richard?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to the Lion d'Or."</p> + +<p>Seth moved his shoulders, it was not a shrug, but as though he would get +the burden he carried into as easy a position as possible.</p> + +<p>"We are hardly likely to meet with such good luck a second time. We +escaped from the wood end, but"</p> + +<p>"There is no trap set for us this time," Barrington said. "She may be in +no need of help, in that case we ride on to Paris, and she will be none +the wiser. The plan is simple. We stay here till dark. I shall go back +on foot, you will wait for me here with the horses. An hour should +suffice. If she is in danger I must do what I can to help her. It is +impossible to say what action I shall take, but wait here for me, Seth, +all night. If I do not return by the morning, ride into Paris, inquire +for Monsieur de Lafayette, and tell him what has happened."</p> + +<p>"Let me come with you, Master Richard. We could tether the horses here. +It is most unlikely they would be found."</p> + +<p>"One man may go unnoticed where two could not," Barrington returned. +"You must remain here, Seth."</p> + +<p>There was a point beyond which Seth never ventured to argue, not quickly +reached, as a rule, for Richard valued his companion's opinion and was +ready to listen, but on this occasion it came almost at once. Seth +looked into his face, saw the fixed purpose in his eyes and the sudden +set of the determined mouth, and said no more. They talked presently of +other things, but not a word of the business in hand until it was dark, +and Barrington suddenly rose from the Stump of a tree on which he was +seated.</p> + +<p>"You quite understand, Seth."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I shall let the sun get well up before I start for Paris."</p> + +<p>"I hope we shall start together," said Richard, holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Good fortune," said Seth, as their hands were grasped for a moment. +Then Richard passed into the lane and turned along the Soisy road in the +direction of the Lion d'Or.</p> + +<p>The inn and its outbuildings stood back from the road, and isolated. The +village was beyond it, hidden by a turn in the road. Two or three wooden +tables stood on the space before the door, used no doubt on balmy summer +evenings, but deserted to-night. The sound of laughter and much talking +came to Richard as he approached, and he stood for a moment under a tree +by the roadside to look at the front of the building, at the windows +through which the sound of merrymaking came, and at the windows above +which showed no light. Crossing the road, he found a gap in the hedge +and went round to look at the back of the house. There was a garden, +mostly of vegetables and not ill kept, a low, wooden fence, broken down +in one place, enclosing it from the field in which he stood. A dim light +came from two windows on the ground floor, but above every window was +dark. If Mademoiselle St. Clair were there she must be without lamp or +candle, or the windows must be closely shuttered. He took careful note +of the back of the house and how the road lay in regard to it, for there +was no knowing what difficulties the next few minutes might bring. Then +he went back to the front of the house, and approaching quietly, looked +in at the window across which the curtains were only partially drawn. He +was prepared for any eventuality, and his hand in the pocket of his +coat held his pistol, but he was startled at what he saw. Facing him sat +Monsieur le Comte and his friend. These men had probably robbed him of +the gold star, Seth was of the same opinion; certainly they had done +their utmost to prevent his finding mademoiselle at the ball. Were they +aristocrats? If so, they were playing with fire among this crowd of +savage-looking patriots.</p> + +<p>Monsieur le Comte was drunk, or feigning to be, and Barrington saw him +take up the wine bottle and smash it on the table, and heard him declare +that the only way to get the emigrés into their power was to lie to them +and cheat them. He stayed to hear no more. Surely this man's presence +there, and his words, meant that he had lied to some purpose, meant that +Mademoiselle St. Clair was in the inn. Her danger was great, for there +was no doubt about the savage temper of the crowd in that room.</p> + +<p>The door stood open, there was no one in the entrance, and Barrington +slipped in.</p> + +<p>"The woman upstairs! The peasant woman!" These were the words that +greeted him. Horrible in their suggestion, they were a guide to him. He +was upon the dark staircase when the rush from the room came, and the +man fell upon the threshold. He drew back to the wall lest he should be +seen, and touched some one. In a moment, for his own safety, he had +grasped the arm beside him and then, as he realized that it was a woman +he held, put his hand quickly over her mouth to prevent her crying out. +He could not see her clearly, close as she was to him, but touch brought +conviction.</p> + +<p>"For your life, silence!" he whispered.</p> + +<p>Mercier's threat to shoot the first man who attempted to go to the +woman upstairs had its effect, no one was inclined to run the risk, yet +several remained about the doorway instead of going back to their wine. +Barrington quickly calculated all the chances. To leave by the inn door +without being seen was impossible; another way must be found, and there +was not a moment to lose. Directly the wine fumes overpowered the man +who, for an instant, dominated the situation, these bloodthirsty +wretches would certainly rush upon their prey. The intention was visible +in their sullen faces.</p> + +<p>"You know me, will you trust me?" he whispered. He still held her arm, +his hand was still over her mouth.</p> + +<p>She nodded her head.</p> + +<p>"Go up, quietly," he said, releasing her.</p> + +<p>Jeanne knew him. Few moments had passed since her arm had been gripped +in the darkness, but she had lived a long time in them, and exactly when +she realized who it was who touched her she did not know. It never +occurred to her to think it strange that he should be alive. She did not +ask herself whether she really trusted him. At least, he was different +from those men below, and she obeyed him.</p> + +<p>"Is there another staircase?" he asked when they were in the passage +above.</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"There must be," he said, as though their dire necessity would compel +one. "Walk close behind me and tread lightly."</p> + +<p>Comparative silence had reigned, only the uneasy shuffling of feet and +the chink of a glass, now the noise of voices broke out again, angry +voices, raised in argument and quarrel. Each moment Barrington expected +a rush up the stairs. If it came, what could he do?</p> + +<p>He remembered the position of the windows through which a dim light had +shown in the rear of the house. The kitchen was probably there. If +another staircase existed it would be in the direction of the kitchen. +He turned along a passage to the left, his hand stretched out before +him, lest he should stumble in the darkness. The noise below was +deadened here.</p> + +<p>"Might we not climb from a window?" Jeanne whispered.</p> + +<p>He had thought of it. He tried to remember whether a tree or roof of an +outbuilding against any of the windows made this means of escape +possible. He felt sure such a way did not exist. He might have dropped +from one of the windows in safety, but the woman could not do so. He had +not answered her question when there was a new sound close beside them, +a heavy tread.</p> + +<p>"Stand close to the wall," he said. "Keep near, and whatever happens do +not speak."</p> + +<p>Some one was coming up stairs which were close to them, and in the dark. +Barrington strained his ears to locate the position. If they were not +seen escape was possible.</p> + +<p>A thin, straight line of light was suddenly drawn perpendicularly, just +in front of him, and then a door was opened. A man, one of the inn +servants, carrying a candle, stepped into the passage. The light fell +directly on the figures standing by the wall. The man was startled. So +sudden an encounter was unusual, and in these days the unusual was +dangerous. Only a fraction of time was necessary to bring him to this +conclusion, but in it, Barrington had also reached a conclusion equally +definite. As the man opened his mouth to call out, his throat was seized +in a viselike grip and only the ghost of a sound gurgled and was lost. +The candle fell to the floor. The noise of its fall seemed horribly +loud.</p> + +<p>"Stamp out the light," Barrington said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>Jeanne did so, obeying him promptly.</p> + +<p>The man was a child in Barrington's hands. His efforts to unloose the +gripping fingers at his throat were feeble and futile. He was borne +backward and downward to the floor, a knee was upon his chest, bending +and cracking his bones, and then came oblivion.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>She was close behind him and they went down the narrow stairs which had +a bend in them. There was a door at the bottom which was open, a light +beyond.</p> + +<p>Pistol in hand, Barrington stepped quickly into the kitchen. It was +empty. There was a door between the windows, and the next moment they +were in the garden. He took the woman's hand, guiding her to the broken +place in the wooden fence. There he paused, looking back and listening. +There was no sound of an alarm yet, no cries to suggest that the fiends +had rushed up the stairs to wreak their savagery on a defenseless woman. +For a moment Barrington contemplated taking a horse from the stable, but +he dared not run the risk of the delay. Chance must bring them the means +of entering Paris in safety.</p> + +<p>"We must run, mademoiselle. My servant is waiting for me."</p> + +<p>She gathered her skirts about her.</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand again—it will help you."</p> + +<p>So they ran across the fields, making for the road and the clump of +trees in the lane where Seth waited.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE SAFETY OF MADEMOISELLE</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The two men had sat for a long while facing each other, one doing all +the talking, the other listening eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Early this morning we turned the horses loose in a field and reached +the barrier on foot," said Barrington. "We came in with the crowd, two +abusive men quarreling with a market woman over some petty transaction +regarding vegetables. I assure you, Monsieur de Lafayette, I never used +such coarse language to a woman before in all my life. She played her +part excellently. They laughed at us at the barrier, and we entered +still quarreling. The rest was easy."</p> + +<p>So he finished his long story, which had begun with his personal affairs +in Virginia, and ended with the account of mademoiselle's flight from +the Lion d'Or on the Soisy road.</p> + +<p>Lafayette had listened without interrupting the narrative, now he rose +slowly, and, crossing the room, looked down into the street.</p> + +<p>"Is it possible that, in spite of your protestations, you are not +pleased to see me?" Barrington asked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes and no, an enigmatical answer, but the only true one I can give," +said Lafayette, turning to his companion and putting both hands upon his +shoulders. "The face is still the face of the boy I knew, and of whom I +have thought often; there is exactly that courage and daring in you +which I then perceived would one day assert themselves. Richard +Barrington has grown into just the kind of man I expected, and on that +account I am delighted to see him. But there is no place for him in +France, there is no work for an honorable volunteer; besides which, he +has already managed to slip into a very maelstrom of danger, and for +that reason I am sorry he has come."</p> + +<p>"I find the Marquis de Lafayette much altered when I hear him speak in +such a tone of despair."</p> + +<p>Lafayette smiled, and gently pushed Richard into a chair.</p> + +<p>"That I do not despair easily, as a rule, may convince you that I am not +troubled without reason. The country is in the hands of fanatics, there +is no foreseeing what the end may be. On every side of us are enemies, +but we are our own worse foes. We are split into factions, fighting and +disputing with one another; the very worst of us are gaining the +predominant power, and those who have honestly striven to bring good out +of evil have been driven to the wall and are struggling for their +lives."</p> + +<p>"Yet you say my sword is useless."</p> + +<p>"As useless as the wooden toy weapon of a boy," was the answer. "To-day +I am of no account. At any moment I am likely to be seized by some of +the very men who have been my supporters, some trumped up charge +preferred against me, and then—then forty-eight hours or less may +suffice to close the account."</p> + +<p>"You are in immediate danger?" asked Barrington.</p> + +<p>"A condition I share with nearly every honest man in France. It is not +known that I am in Paris. I am supposed to be with the army. I came +secretly, having affairs to settle in case of the worst happening. I may +find it necessary to cross the frontier, as so many others have done, +and after the part I have played am not likely to find much welcome."</p> + +<p>"You know, monsieur, that I would do anything to help you."</p> + +<p>"My dear Richard, I know that; but you must not overburden yourself. By +bringing mademoiselle here you have not brought her into a place of +safety. You should have persuaded her to stay in Beauvais."</p> + +<p>"I did my best."</p> + +<p>"And for the moment you have saved her. That is something. Now set your +fertile brain to work, Richard, and scheme how to get her back to +Beauvais again."</p> + +<p>"But Bruslart—"</p> + +<p>Lafayette silenced him with a look, as the door opened and Jeanne +entered. She had washed the stains from her face, and changed her +attire. Both men rose, and Lafayette placed a chair for her.</p> + +<p>"You have braved so much, mademoiselle, that one does not fear to speak +the truth to you," said the Marquis. "I have been explaining to Monsieur +Barrington that this house is no safe refuge for you. Things have +changed rapidly since you left Paris."</p> + +<p>"I know. We have not been without news at Beauvais," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"I would to God you had never been persuaded to leave so safe a retreat. +I am aware, mademoiselle, that you dislike me. You would call me a +renegade from my order. It is true. I had dreams of a reformed, a +regenerated France; my strivings toward these dreams have ended in +failure."</p> + +<p>"I think I can refrain from disliking a man who has the courage of his +opinions," said Jeanne, quietly. "Had I had my own way I should not have +fled from Paris. We were too easily alarmed, and our fear placed a +weapon in the hands of our enemies."</p> + +<p>"At least, mademoiselle, accept the position now. The weapon is in the +hands of the people, and they are using it. Those who would have held +them in check are powerless. Be advised. Let me, with the help of my +friend here, do my best to get you safely back to Beauvais. After last +night's adventure, you will be looked for high and low. While the hunt +in the city is keen, it may be easy to slip out unobserved. Every moment +we delay the difficulty increases."</p> + +<p>"Has not Monsieur Barrington informed you of my purpose in coming to +Paris?"</p> + +<p>"He has."</p> + +<p>"Do you imagine I shall go without fulfilling that purpose? Monsieur de +Lafayette, I thank you for your advice, which I know is honestly given. +I thank you for having me here, even for so short a time, for I know the +risks you run. I have many friends in Paris. Will you help me to reach +one of them?"</p> + +<p>"What friends?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Normand."</p> + +<p>"He has been in the Conciergerie some weeks, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Madame de Lentville, then."</p> + +<p>"Also in prison," answered Lafayette. "She was caught in her endeavor to +leave Paris less than a week ago."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Bersac," said Jeanne, but not speaking so readily.</p> + +<p>"In heaven, mademoiselle. The dwellers in the suburbs beyond the Seine +remembered that he once called them idlers, accused them of thriving on +other men's industry. The people have a long memory."</p> + +<p>"They killed him?"</p> + +<p>"At the door of his own house. There is a lantern over it."</p> + +<p>There was silence for some moments. The color, faded from Jeanne's face, +and the tears came into her eyes. She forced them back with a great +effort.</p> + +<p>"There is the Vicomte de Morlieux," she said, suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Alas, mademoiselle, only last night he was the center of a yelling mob +which passed beneath these windows bearing him to the Temple. He is +accused, I believe, of assisting the King's flight, and with showing +courage when the Tuileries was attacked. Surely you understand your +danger?"</p> + +<p>Barrington had looked from one to the other as they spoke, admiring the +woman's courage, wondering if it were necessary for Monsieur le Marquis +to give her such precise information. He knew she was courageous, but +was it wise to try her so severely as this?</p> + +<p>"You have said the people remember," Jeanne said slowly; "they will +recollect, then, that I have done something for the poor. I never +thought to boast of my charity, but I will make capital out of it."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, the people do not remember good works so easily," +Lafayette answered. "Believe me, such faith is only grasping at a +straw."</p> + +<p>"My faith is strong. I shall find a lodging in Paris. I have been a +market woman already; if necessary, I can sink to a lower level. Of my +own will I shall not leave Paris again until I have contrived to set +Lucien Bruslart free."</p> + +<p>"He is not a prisoner, mademoiselle. I have already sent for him."</p> + +<p>"Is that safe?" asked Barrington, quickly. "For you, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. At any rate, it was necessary."</p> + +<p>"Do you say he is not a prisoner?" said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"He may be here at any moment," said Lafayette.</p> + +<p>"Have we been deceived?" Barrington exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell," Lafayette answered. "It is true that Monsieur Bruslart +was in the Conciergerie, but he speedily convinced the authorities that +a mistake had been made. I believe he is considered a thorough patriot +now."</p> + +<p>Jeanne looked at Barrington, who met her gaze unflinchingly.</p> + +<p>"I have told you all I know," he said quietly, answering the question in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>There was a silence which was broken by the heavy opening and closing of +the street door.</p> + +<p>"Doubtless that is Monsieur Bruslart," said Lafayette. "You would wish +to be alone with him, mademoiselle, so we will leave you for a little +while. I can only hope that his advice will support mine. You may count +on me to do all I can to secure your safety."</p> + +<p>Barrington made no promise as he followed the Marquis from the room, but +his eyes met Jeanne's again for a moment. A curious and sudden +conviction came to her that she had at least one friend in Paris, who +was able and willing to help her. She was encouraged and strengthened. +For an instant she seemed to feel the grasp of his hand as she had done +when she ran beside him last night.</p> + +<p>Lucien Bruslart's brain had worked busily since the message reached him. +He was glad Pauline had not been with him to hear it. She was such a +jealous little termagant. He entered the room the moment after Lafayette +and Barrington had left it by another door.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne!"</p> + +<p>"You sent for me, Lucien. I have come."</p> + +<p>He bent his head, and taking her hand raised it to his lips. At that +moment he had no thought for Pauline. Yet he felt there was something +lacking in Jeanne's greeting. He would make her understand directly.</p> + +<p>"How good of you!" he murmured. "Tell me of your journey. Last night, +strangely enough, I heard of you, and since then have been in a fever of +unrest."</p> + +<p>"You heard of me! At the Lion d'Or?"</p> + +<p>"Were you there? No, that is not what I heard. It was a strange place to +lodge you in. Tell me everything."</p> + +<p>"Tell me first why you sent for me," she answered. "It is not so very +long since I left Paris; yet, in some way, you have grown unfamiliar."</p> + +<p>"It is this perhaps," and he laughed as he touched the tri-color which +he wore. "You are unfamiliar too. We are both masquerading."</p> + +<p>He told her the history of his imprisonment and of his release; he +laughed as he explained that his safety lay in appearing to be a good +patriot, and grew serious as he told her with lowered voice that, under +this deceit, he was working night and day for the King, the imprisoned +nobility, and for the emigrés.</p> + +<p>"I was in danger, Jeanne, grave danger, but I did not send for you. Do +you imagine I would have brought you into peril on any pretext?"</p> + +<p>"You promised to send for me if you were in danger. It was a compact."</p> + +<p>"One that any man would feel himself justified in breaking. Rouzet, +poor fellow, acted without my knowledge. He was from the first very +fearful for my safety, and to ease his mind I showed him the trinket and +told him of our compact. Directly I was arrested and taken to the +Conciergerie he must have planned to come to Beauvais."</p> + +<p>"But how did the trinket come into his possession? I thought you always +wore it."</p> + +<p>"I did, but in such a hurry were they to arrest me that they came while +I was yet in bed. I had to dress with two men watching me, and I left +the gold star in a drawer."</p> + +<p>"And Rouzet found it?"</p> + +<p>"How else could he have started to ride to Beauvais with it?" said +Lucien. "Truly, Jeanne, you seem as hard to convince as if you were +really a market woman suspecting every purchaser of trying to get the +better of her in a bargain."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, but I have come through such a maze of deceit that full +belief is difficult," she answered. "Have you no friend named Mercier?"</p> + +<p>"Half the ragged fellows passing in the street might claim friendship +with me, so well do I play the part of patriot; but I am not conscious +of having a friend of that name."</p> + +<p>"There is such a man, and his knowledge of you is intimate. He brought +me the gold star."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the whole story, Jeanne. I may find a clew in it."</p> + +<p>He listened to the tale, asking no questions. There was excitement in +his face as she recounted her adventure at the Lion d'Or and her rescue +by Barrington. It was simply told, yet dramatically, and Lucien's face +flushed and paled. This beautiful woman had passed through this terrible +experience because she loved him.</p> + +<p>"They shall pay for it," he said, between his closed teeth, it was the +only thought in his mind at the moment—"they shall pay, by Heaven! they +shall."</p> + +<p>His earnestness pleased her. This was the Lucien she knew.</p> + +<p>"What was it you heard of me last night?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I was told that Rouzet had been watched and followed, that he had been +killed on the high road, and the star stolen; that no message could +possibly have reached you at Beauvais. It is evident there are others +who have plotted to bring you into danger."</p> + +<p>"And succeeded," she answered.</p> + +<p>"You must be placed in safety without delay, Jeanne. These scoundrels +will follow you hot-footed to Paris."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Lafayette has advised me to return to Beauvais."</p> + +<p>"Excellent advice, but impossible. A little while ago his name might +have been a safeguard, but his day is over. He clings too persistently +to a rock which the rising tide is covering. I have another plan. Tell +me, is this man Barrington to be trusted?"</p> + +<p>"Trusted!"</p> + +<p>She spoke so quickly and certainly that Lucien started. He was inclined +to resent such a tone used in the defense of another man.</p> + +<p>"There is a wealth of eloquence in the word as you utter it, Jeanne."</p> + +<p>"It is only his courage which has made this meeting possible," she said +quietly.</p> + +<p>"Many a man who is not to be trusted is full of courage," Lucien +returned. "One gets skeptical in these days, and I have your safety to +think of. You must let me form my own judgment of this man when I see +him."</p> + +<p>"I hear them coming now."</p> + +<p>The Marquis and Barrington entered.</p> + +<p>"I was surprised to hear you were in Paris, monsieur," said Bruslart to +Lafayette.</p> + +<p>"I am here, a private affair. I trust monsieur will forget he has seen +me. Under the circumstances it seemed necessary to let you know that +mademoiselle was here."</p> + +<p>"I am greatly in your debt. You may certainly count on my +forgetfulness."</p> + +<p>"And you must pardon this interruption," said Lafayette, "but I am +fearful of delay. Doubtless you agree with me, Monsieur Bruslart, that +it would be best for mademoiselle to leave Paris at once."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if such a thing were possible," Bruslart answered. "As I have told +mademoiselle, her presence here is not of my contriving. Fearing for my +safety, my servant started for Beauvais. He is dead, poor fellow, but he +has unwillingly played into the hands of others. For some days at least +I believe it would be most dangerous for mademoiselle to attempt to +leave Paris. I have a safer plan. A friend I can trust implicitly will +hide her for the time being. A couple of hours will suffice to make +arrangements."</p> + +<p>"I doubt whether this house is safe even for that two hours," answered +Lafayette. "If there is a suspicion how mademoiselle was rescued, and it +is hardly possible there should not be, my house is certain to be +searched. My friend Barrington has mentioned my name since his arrival +in France."</p> + +<p>"I propose to take mademoiselle with me," Lucien answered. "She will be +safe at my lodging until I have arranged with my friend."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Lafayette, do you think I would run the risk unless I were +certain?"</p> + +<p>"Your interest in mademoiselle is well known, Monsieur Bruslart, and we +know that patriots do not always trust each other."</p> + +<p>"Have you any other plan?" Bruslart asked.</p> + +<p>"I should try and get out of Paris at once," Lafayette answered.</p> + +<p>"And my services are at your disposal, monsieur," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I thank you," Lucien returned, "not only for your proffered help, but +for all you have done for this lady. Jeanne, which will you do: attempt +to leave Paris or take my advice?"</p> + +<p>"I am in your hands, Lucien," she said.</p> + +<p>"Then we will go at once. There is a back entrance to this house, I +believe, Monsieur de Lafayette. We will go that way if you will allow +us. We are safest on foot, I think."</p> + +<p>"I will show you the way," answered the Marquis.</p> + +<p>"For the moment, Monsieur Barrington, I cannot use your services," said +Bruslart; "but I may be only too glad to do so presently. Naturally you +will be anxious to know that mademoiselle is in safety. Will you do me +the honor to call upon me to-night?"</p> + +<p>"The honor will be mine," Barrington answered.</p> + +<p>"Come, Jeanne. Will you show us the way, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>Lafayette went to the door, and Jeanne crossed the room to Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I have no words to thank you," she said. "For what I did at Beauvais I +humbly ask your pardon."</p> + +<p>"I am always at your service, mademoiselle. Please believe this and use +me in your need."</p> + +<p>She was gone, and Barrington was alone, staring at the doorway through +which she had passed. A tangle of thoughts was in his brain, one loose +end uppermost. He had not moved when Lafayette returned.</p> + +<p>"Is that man honest?" asked Barrington. It was the loose end in the +tangle which prompted the question.</p> + +<p>"Yes, surely. She is the woman he loves."</p> + +<p>"Only God knows the villainy of some men."</p> + +<p>Lafayette laid his hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Friend Richard, can it be that he is not the only man who loves her?"</p> + +<p>"She is a woman, and in Paris."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, enough truly to cause any man anxiety," answered Lafayette. +"Now I am going to send a trusted servant with you to find you a secure +lodging. This house is no safe place for you either. I would we were +looking out across Chesapeake Bay together."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>"WAY FOR THE CURSED ARISTOCRAT!"</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>There were quiet streets in Paris down which noisy patriots seldom +passed, houses into which the angry roar of revolution only came like a +far-off echo. There were men and women who had no part in the upheaval, +who had nothing to do either with the rabble or the nobility, who went +about their business as they had always done, lamenting the hard times +perchance, yet hoping for better. Some may have realized that in their +indifference lay their safety, but to others such indifference came +naturally; their own immediate affairs were all that concerned them. The +rabble took no notice of them, they were too insignificant for the +nobility to attempt to influence, and they criticised neither the doings +of the Convention, nor the guillotine's work, knowing little of either.</p> + +<p>In such a street, with a man named Fargeau, a tailor by trade, +Barrington and Seth found a lodging. Fargeau had had the Marquis de +Lafayette for a customer, and the money of this American, who could +hardly have much interest in what was happening in Paris, would be +useful.</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell how long I may be in Paris," said Lafayette, at parting. +"One must not prophesy about to-morrow. At present the neighborhood of +my apartment must be dangerous to you. If chance brings me power again +you know I shall think of you before any other."</p> + +<p>"My duty seems to lie straight before me," Barrington returned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand, and if you are in trouble send for me if you can. +You may depend on my doing all that a man can do. Count the cost of all +your actions, for the price may be heavy. I have been full of advice +this morning, let me advise you. To some in Paris you are a marked man, +remember, so keep quiet for a while, and on the first opportunity get +back to Virginia."</p> + +<p>"You will not ask me to promise to act on your advice," Barrington +returned with a smile.</p> + +<p>"No," and then Lafayette looked earnestly into his face. "No, I do not +expect you to act upon it. For most of us some woman is a curse or a +blessing, and the utmost a man can do is to satisfy himself which she +is. If she is worthy, I would not call that man friend who was not ready +to risk all for her. God grant we both win through to more peaceful +days."</p> + +<p>Early in the afternoon Barrington went out, leaving Seth in the lodging. +Seth suggested that he should be allowed to go with him.</p> + +<p>"You must be free to work should I be caught and unable to act for +myself," was the answer. "After to-night I shall be able to make more +definite plans. Under certain circumstances there will be nothing to +prevent us setting out upon our return journey to Virginia. Believe me, +Seth, I have not yet fallen in love with Paris."</p> + +<p>Seth watched him go, knowing that his resolution was not to be shaken, +realizing, too, that there was reason in his argument.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't understand any one being in love with Paris," he said to +himself; "but there's a woman has Master Richard in her net. Love is a +disease, the later caught, the worse it is. I wonder what his mother +would have thought of this lady from Beauvais. And she doesn't care a +handful of Indian corn for Master Richard as far as I can see; only +makes use of him to get to another man. Falling in love with a woman of +that kind seems a waste of good energy to me, but it's wonderful how +many men have done it."</p> + +<p>Richard Barrington had no intention of running into unnecessary danger. +This man Mercier had no proof that he had helped Mademoiselle St. Clair +to escape from the Lion d'Or. Paris was a big place, and he might never +chance upon Jacques Sabatier. He had no intention of making any further +use of Lafayette's name for the present, since it was evident that he +might involve his friend in difficulty if he did. He was a Virginian +gentleman in Paris privately. He was content to remain unknown if they +would let him. If they grew inquisitive, his nationality should be in +his favor, and the fact that he had come to offer his sword on the side +of the people would be his safety. If he had made a few enemies by +thwarting private plans, he had surely the power of making a thousand +friends. So far his scheme was complete, but he was not thinking of it +as he made his way toward the more central part of the city, taking care +to appear as little of a stranger as possible. Was Lucien Bruslart to be +trusted? This was the question he asked himself over and over again, +finding no satisfactory answer. The reason which lay behind such a +question could not be ignored. Any helpless woman would have appealed +to him, he told himself, but the whole truth refused to be confined in +such an argument. Jeanne St. Clair meant something more to him than +this, but in this direction he refused to question himself further, +except to condemn himself. Was he not viewing Lucien Bruslart through +smoked glasses as it were?—an easy fault under the circumstances. +Jeanne loved this man. No greater proof was needed than her journey to +Paris for his sake. Barrington had done her a service for which he had +been amply thanked. To-night Bruslart would inform him that Jeanne was +safe, and thank him again for what he had done. There was an end of the +business; and since his enthusiasm to help the people had somewhat +evaporated—Jeanne's influence again, doubtless—why should he not +return home? France held no place for him. It would be better not to see +Jeanne again, more honorable, easier for him.</p> + +<p>At a corner he stopped. Others had done the same. Coming up the street +was a ragged, shouting mob. There were some armed with pikes who had +made a vain attempt to keep the march orderly; others, flourishing +sticks, danced and sang as they came; others, barely clad, ran to and +fro like men half drunk, yelling ribald insults now at those who passed +by, now at the world at large. Women with draggled skirts and dirty and +disordered hair were in the crowd, shrieking joyous profanity, striking +and fighting one another in their mad excitement. There were children, +too, almost naked girls and boys, as ready with oath and obscenity as +their elders, fair young faces and forms, some of them, debauched out of +all that was childlike. Every fetid alley and filthy court near which +this procession had passed had vomited its scum to swell the crowd. In +the center of it rocked and swayed a coach. Hands were plenty to help +the frightened horses, hands to push, hands to grip the spokes and make +the wheels turn faster. The driver had no driving to do, so roared a +song. The inmate of the coach might be dumb with fear, half dead with +it, yet if he shrieked with terror, the cry of no single throat could +rise above all this babel of sound.</p> + +<p>"Way! Way for the cursed aristocrat!"</p> + +<p>Children and women ran past Barrington shouting. One woman touched him +with a long-nailed, dirty, scraggy hand.</p> + +<p>"An aristocrat, citizen. Another head for La Guillotine," she cried, and +then danced a step or two, laughing.</p> + +<p>Barrington stood on tiptoe endeavoring to see the miserable passenger of +the coach, but in vain. The men with pikes surrounded the vehicle, or +the poor wretch's journey might have ended at the first lamp.</p> + +<p>"It's a woman," said some one near him.</p> + +<p>"Ay! a cursed aristocrat!" shouted a boy who heard. "Get in and ride +with her," and the urchin sped onwards, shouting horrible suggestions.</p> + +<p>"A woman!" Barrington muttered, and his frame stiffened as a man's will +do when he thinks of action.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool," said a voice in his ear, and a hand was laid upon his +arm.</p> + +<p>He turned to face a man who looked at him fixedly, continued to look at +him until the crowd had passed, and others who had stopped to watch the +procession had passed on about their business.</p> + +<p>"You would have thrown your life away had I not stopped you," said the +stranger.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. I hardly know."</p> + +<p>"Yet it is not so rare a sight."</p> + +<p>"At least I have not grown used to it," Barrington answered.</p> + +<p>"That is difficult," said the man. "I have seen more of it than you, but +I have learned to hide my feelings. The first time I was like you. Even +now I clinch my teeth and remain inactive with difficulty. This tends to +make us conspicuous, citizen. We must be either victims or executioners +to be in the fashion. Some of us have friends, perhaps, who may easily +chance to be victims."</p> + +<p>"True."</p> + +<p>"I have," said the man. "It is pleasant to meet one who has a kindred +interest."</p> + +<p>"I cannot claim so much as that," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"That sudden stiffening of yours told its tale," and the man smiled a +little. "Had I not been convinced I hardly dared have said so much."</p> + +<p>"Doubtless there was some danger," laughed Barrington, "but at least I +am not a spy or an informer. The thought of a woman in such a crowd hurt +me, citizen."</p> + +<p>"Some time we might be of service to each other," the man returned. "It +is good to have a friend one can trust in these days. Unless I am much +mistaken, I can be of service to you. My way is the same as yours if you +will allow it. There is a shop yonder where the wine is good and where, +until that shouting crowd comes home again, we shall attract no notice."</p> + +<p>How could this man be of service to him? For a moment he hesitated, +scenting danger, but the next he had turned to walk with his new +companion. He looked honest and might tell him something of value.</p> + +<p>They entered the wine shop which was empty, and were served.</p> + +<p>"Have you a toast, monsieur?"</p> + +<p>"To the safety of that woman," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I drink it. To the safety of a woman."</p> + +<p>Barrington did not notice the slight difference in the toast; the words +were hurriedly spoken and in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, monsieur, that only this morning an emigré returned to +Paris disguised as a market woman?"</p> + +<p>"What folly!" Barrington said. "Does she chance to be the friend you are +interested in?"</p> + +<p>"My friend is an emigré, therefore I am a little sorry for this one," +was the answer. "I hear that careful search is being made for her. Such +a search can hardly fail to be successful."</p> + +<p>"She may have good friends."</p> + +<p>"She has, I understand. One, at least, the man who helped her into +Paris."</p> + +<p>"He had better have helped her to keep out of it," Barrington returned, +"and yet, she may have come with some high purpose and he has served her +cleverly. Is it dangerous to drink to his good health, monsieur? for I +like a man who is a man even though he be my enemy."</p> + +<p>"There is no danger, I think," and the man drank. "She has another +friend, too, one Lucien Bruslart."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of him," said Barrington, quickly, "but surely he is of +the people. I think I have heard him praised as an honest patriot."</p> + +<p>"He is, yet he was an aristocrat."</p> + +<p>"You speak as though you had little faith in him."</p> + +<p>"No, no, you judge too hastily. I am of the people, yet, as you may +have gathered, not wholly with the people. I take it that such is +monsieur's position, too. Personally, I have not much faith in an +aristocrat turned patriot, that is all."</p> + +<p>"Nor I, monsieur; still, I know nothing of this Monsieur Bruslart, so +can venture no opinion."</p> + +<p>"You are a stranger in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Pardon, monsieur, I am not inquisitive. I only wish to prove myself +friendly. Paris is somewhat dangerous for strangers."</p> + +<p>"Even for those who take no interest in one side or the other?" asked +Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Most assuredly, for such men are likely to be on private business, and +private business smacks of secrecy, and those who govern dislike all +secrets except their own."</p> + +<p>"I am not afraid. It is a habit rather than a virtue."</p> + +<p>"I saw your fearlessness. It impressed me," the man answered, earnestly. +"I saw also that others had noted you as well. It would perhaps be wise +to remember that besides hunting for the woman who has come back to +Paris, they are hunting for the man who helped her so successfully. +Perhaps some of the men who were at the barriers this morning may +remember him."</p> + +<p>"What more probable?" said Barrington. "It may be that this man was not +such a friend to the woman as we have imagined. He may have had sinister +designs in bringing her into Paris."</p> + +<p>The man put down his glass rather sharply. The idea evidently produced +some effect upon him.</p> + +<p>"I cannot believe that," he said.</p> + +<p>"I do not like to think so," Barrington returned.</p> + +<p>For a few moments they looked squarely into each other's faces. Then the +man laid his hand upon the table, palm uppermost.</p> + +<p>"Ah! It is certain we are kindred spirits, monsieur. We may have our own +secrets, our interests may perhaps have points of antagonism, but we are +both fearless. You are a man after my own heart. Will you take my hand?"</p> + +<p>Barrington grasped his hand across the little table.</p> + +<p>"Should we ever be enemies, let us remember this wine shop and this hand +clasp. The recollection may help us both. For you there is danger, +coming perhaps from the very quarter where you least expect it. I may be +useful to you then. In the Rue Valette there is a baker's shop; if you +inquire there for one, Raymond Latour, you shall find a welcome," and +before Barrington could make any answer, he passed out into the street.</p> + +<p>The man knew him, that was evident, knew that he had helped mademoiselle +into Paris. Was he a friend or an enemy? He had warned him of danger, +and his parting words had had something of the nature of a compact in +them. What could bind this man to him in any way unless the emigré he +was interested in was Mademoiselle St. Clair? Surely that was where the +truth lay. To this man Latour she stood for something.</p> + +<p>Barrington remained in the wine shop for some little time, carefully +examining every point of his adventure. Certainly his movements would be +watched; certainly this Raymond Latour might be useful to him. When he +went into the street presently he looked carelessly to right and left, +wondering which of the people in sight was bent on following him.</p> + +<p>"Whatever their reward is to be they shall do something to earn it," he +murmured, smiling, and turning into a side street he did his best to +escape watchful eyes.</p> + +<p>At the hour appointed he was at Monsieur Bruslart's door. The servant +asked him several questions before he admitted that his master was in. +Monsieur Bruslart was cautious. Was it possible that mademoiselle was +still in the house? If Barrington forgot her danger for a moment as he +thought of the delight it would be to him to see her again, was he very +blameworthy?</p> + +<p>The servant announced him.</p> + +<p>Pale, dishevelled, trembling with excitement, Bruslart met him. A +nervous hand gripped his arm.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur' Barrington, you—"</p> + +<p>"What is it? In Heaven's name what is it?"</p> + +<p>"While I was gone, they came. Look at the room, still dirty with them, +still reeking of them. They took her. Jeanne is a prisoner, and I—I am +almost mad."</p> + +<p>Barrington gasped as a man who receives a heavy blow. His hand fell on a +chair-back to steady himself. He saw nothing but that filthy crowd, and +that coach swaying in the midst of it. Jeanne was the woman within, and +he had made no effort to save her.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>CITIZEN BRUSLART</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The two men stared at each other with unseeing eyes, neither conscious, +it would seem, of the other's presence. The circumstances called for +prompt action, for swift decision, for keen and subtle energy, yet they +were silent, helpless, looking into vacancy, and seeing visions.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Lucien sat down and let his head fall upon his arms thrown out +across the table, a personification of despair which might take the +heart out of any observer. The action served, however, to bring. +Barrington back into the present, to conserve his energies, to make him +a man of action again. His frame stiffened, much as it had done that +afternoon when the crowd with the coach in its midst had passed him. +Then came the memory of the restraining hand laid on his arm. It +acquired a new significance.</p> + +<p>"Tell me the whole story," he said. "There is no time to lose."</p> + +<p>"I was a fool. Lafayette was right. I ought never to have brought her +here," wailed Bruslart, utter despair in his voice; and then, after a +moment's pause, he went on with desperate energy as though he had a +difficult confession to make and must tell it in a rush of words, or be +afraid to tell it at all. "It took me more than two hours to arrange +with my friend. He was out when I got there and I had to wait, then he +was a long time discussing the best means of securing mademoiselle's +safety, and how she could most easily be taken to his house unseen. +Nearer four hours had passed than two when I returned to find Jeanne +gone."</p> + +<p>"Your friend had fooled you, keeping you out of the way."</p> + +<p>"No, no. He did not know where Jeanne was. Some one must have seen her, +recognized her when you came in at the barrier this morning perchance, +followed her and betrayed her. They did not come asking for her, +searching for her, but knowing that she was here. When the door was +opened they rushed in, thrusting my servant aside, asking no questions. +The reek of them is still in the room. What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>Bruslart let his head again fall on his outstretched arms and sobs shook +him. Such grief in a man is difficult to witness and remain unmoved, yet +no expression of pity came into Barrington's face. He was a man of a +different fiber altogether; his emotions were seldom shown, and deep +though they really were, he passed for a hard man. Even in anger he was +calm, calculating, a set face masking the truth; and in such a crisis as +this, after the first staggering blow of it, his whole force was +concentrated on action. Misery for what had happened was so much energy +wasted, there was something to do and every faculty became focused upon +the best means of doing it.</p> + +<p>Barrington went to the table and laid his hand firmly on Bruslart's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"This is no time for grieving over what cannot be undone; our business +is to act. Let me understand the position, for I swear to you that I am +ready to do all that a man can do. Since mademoiselle was taken in your +house you are in danger, I suppose. They will remember that you are an +aristocrat, too, and easily forget that you wear the outward signs of a +patriot."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle seems to have thought of that, and let them believe that +she had rushed to my house for safety without my knowledge."</p> + +<p>"It was like her," said Barrington. "She will be brave, no matter how +sorely she is tried. To-day, monsieur, I saw a coach surrounded by a +yelling crowd. It was a new sight to me and I stood to see it pass. It +contained an aristocrat, a woman, they said, but I could not see the +prisoner. The time corresponds; it may have been Mademoiselle St. +Clair."</p> + +<p>"Ah! If you had only known!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, monsieur, the fact that the prisoner was a woman, made me +foolish enough to think of rushing into that filthy crowd single handed; +had I imagined it was mademoiselle I certainly should have done so. And +what could I have done, one man against a multitude? I should have been +killed, and mademoiselle might have been torn to pieces by the fiends +who surrounded her. They were in the mood for such work. Fortunately, a +man beside me, seeing the intention in my face, laid a restraining hand +upon me."</p> + +<p>"Was he a friend?" Bruslart asked.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I think he proved himself one though he was a stranger. His +name was Latour, he told me."</p> + +<p>Barrington mentioned the name with set purpose. Over the wine the +stranger had certainly expressed distrust of Lucien Bruslart, an +aristocrat turned patriot. The question of Bruslart's honesty had been +in Barrington's mind all day. It would be worth noting what effect the +name had upon his companion.</p> + +<p>"Latour? Raymond Latour?" said Bruslart, starting to his feet, more +alert than he had yet been since Barrington had entered the room.</p> + +<p>"The same. What do you know of him?"</p> + +<p>"No more than all Paris knows, monsieur, but it is enough. He is a red +republican, a leading man among the Jacobins, hand in glove with all who +hate aristocrats. We need look no further for Jeanne's betrayer."</p> + +<p>"I am not so certain of his hatred against all aristocrats," said +Barrington, slowly.</p> + +<p>"He has a tongue that would persuade the devil himself to believe in +him," said Bruslart.</p> + +<p>"And I do not think he knew who was in the coach," Barrington went on. +"I have a reason for saying so, and I may find out the truth presently."</p> + +<p>"You are a stranger in Paris, you cannot hope to be a match for Raymond +Latour."</p> + +<p>"At least there is work for me to do in this matter, and I shall not run +needlessly into danger. Freedom is precious to us both, monsieur, at the +present time, since we must use it to help mademoiselle. You pose as a +leader of the people, therefore some authority you must have; tell me, +what power have you to open the door of mademoiselle's prison?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, none."</p> + +<p>"Think, think. Patriotism, wrong headed though it may be, will clothe +its enthusiasts with a kind of honor which cannot be bribed, but how +many real patriots are there in Paris? Are the ragged and filthy men and +women of the streets patriots? I warrant a fistful of gold thrown by the +man they cursed would bring him a very hurricane of blessings."</p> + +<p>"You do not understand the people, monsieur," answered Bruslart. "They +would scramble for your gold and cry for more, but they would still +curse you. The mob is king."</p> + +<p>"There is the individual, monsieur," said Barrington. "Try a golden key +on his cupidity. I do not mean on a man who is swaggering with new +authority, but some jailer in the prison."</p> + +<p>"It might be done," said Bruslart.</p> + +<p>"It can. It must. You may use me as you will," Barrington returned. "I +am ready to take any risk."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle would certainly approve your loyalty."</p> + +<p>"I feel that I am responsible for bringing her to Paris," Barrington +answered. "I would risk my life to carry her safely back to Beauvais."</p> + +<p>Bruslart looked at him keenly for a moment, then held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I am ungenerous, if not in words in my thoughts. It is not to +be supposed that I should be the only man to be attracted by +Mademoiselle St. Clair, yet I am a little jealous. You have had an +opportunity of helping her that has not been given to me. You have been +able to prove yourself in her eyes; I have not. Has not my folly been +her ruin?"</p> + +<p>"You have the opportunity now," said Barrington, whose hand was still +clasped in Lucien's.</p> + +<p>"You do not understand my meaning."</p> + +<p>"Only that we pledge ourselves to release mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"And the real strength underlying this resolve? Is it not that we both +love her?"</p> + +<p>Barrington drew back a little, and felt the color tingle in his face. +Since the moment he had first seen her this woman had hardly been absent +from his thoughts, yet from the first he had known that she was pledged +to another man, and therefore she was sacred. Deep down in his nature, +set there perchance by some long-forgotten ancestor, cavalier in spirit, +yet with puritan tendencies in thought, there was a stronger sense of +right and wrong than is given to most men perhaps. As well might he +allow himself to love another's wife, as to think of love for another +man's promised wife. The standard of morality had been easy to keep, +since, until now, love for neither wife nor maid had tempted him; but +during the last two or three days the fierce testing fires had burned +within him. It had been easy to think evil of the man who stood before +him, easy to hope that there might be evil in him, so that Jeanne St. +Clair being free because of this evil, he might have the right to win +her if he could. Lucien Bruslart's quiet statement came like an +accusation; it showed him in a moment that in one sense at any rate he +had fallen before the temptation, for if he had not allowed himself to +think of love, he had yielded to the mean wish that her lover might +prove unworthy. It helped him also to rise superior to the temptation.</p> + +<p>"I may have had ungenerous thoughts, too," he said, "but they have +gone."</p> + +<p>"And only love remains," Bruslart returned, the slight rise in his tone +making the words a question rather than a statement.</p> + +<p>"Your love, monsieur, my admiration and respect. These I certainly have +for the lady who is to be your wife. Your love will hardly grudge me +them."</p> + +<p>"I believe I might have found a dangerous rival, were you not a man of +honor," said Bruslart. "We understand each other better than we did this +morning. Heavens! what a wealth of hours seem to have passed since +then. We fight together for mademoiselle's safety. I will go at once to +the Abbaye, that is the prison you think they were going to. And you, +monsieur, what will you do?"</p> + +<p>"I shall set my servant to watch Latour, and there are one or two others +in this city whose movements will interest me."</p> + +<p>"You must be careful of Latour."</p> + +<p>"He will be wise to be careful of me too. There is some aristocrat +Raymond Latour would do all in his power to help. That is a secret we +may use against him if necessary."</p> + +<p>"Did he tell you that?"</p> + +<p>"We became friends over a bottle of wine."</p> + +<p>"Ah, men boast and tell lies over their wine," Bruslart answered, "and +for his own ends Latour can lie very convincingly. Will you come to me +here to-morrow night? I may have accomplished something by then."</p> + +<p>They left the house together, but parted in the street, Barrington +returning to the house of Monsieur Fargeau to plan with Seth the close +watching of Latour's movements, Bruslart going in the direction of the +prison of the Abbaye.</p> + +<p>Bruslart's pace was rapid for a short distance, then he went more slowly +and thoughtfully; but there was no relapse into the despair in which +Barrington had found him that evening. Contact with a strong man, and +the compact made with him, had apparently restored his nerves, and no +one knew better than he did how necessary it was to have every faculty +in working order at the present moment. He had told Barrington that he +was in no danger from the fact of mademoiselle having been arrested in +his apartments, and if this were not quite true, he felt certain that he +could evade the danger by presenting a bold front to it. The desire to +convince himself that this was possible became stronger as he proceeded +slowly, and opportunity to put his conviction to the test might easily +be found.</p> + +<p>"There would be no one at the prison to-night on whom I could make any +useful impression," he said to himself. "I shall gain more by swaggering +to the crowd."</p> + +<p>He quickened his pace, but not in the direction of the prison. He turned +into a side street, at the corner of which was a broken lamp bracket +used for hanging a man not a week ago. He glanced up at it as he passed, +recognizing perhaps that he was as a skater on thin ice, his safety +entirely dependent upon his agility, as he made his way to the flare of +light which came from a wine shop.</p> + +<p>The place was full and noisy, but there was a sudden silence as he +entered. He was well-known here, and every pair of eyes was fixed upon +him keenly. That he bore the scrutiny without flinching proved him to be +no coward. The attitude of the crowd in the wine shop was not +reassuring. His task was to be more difficult than he imagined, and he +rose to the occasion. With a careless nod intended to comprehend every +one in the room, and as though he perceived nothing extraordinary in the +manner of his reception, he crossed the room to a man who had suspended +his game of cards to stare at him.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Citizen Sabatier; you can tell me something. Was that +aristocrat taken to the Abbaye this afternoon or where?"</p> + +<p>"To the Abbaye."</p> + +<p>"I was going to the prison to ask, then thought I might save myself a +journey by coming here on my way. Wine, landlord—the best, and in these +days the best is bad. You were not at the taking of this aristocrat, +Sabatier?" and as he asked the question Bruslart seated himself.</p> + +<p>"No. I had other business."</p> + +<p>"It is a pity. Had you been there the affair would have been conducted +with more order."</p> + +<p>"I was there, Citizen Bruslart," said a man, thrusting forward his head +truculently. "What is there to complain of?"</p> + +<p>Bruslart looked at him, then leaned toward Sabatier and said in an +audible aside—</p> + +<p>"A new friend? I do not seem to remember him."</p> + +<p>"Citizen Boissin, a worthy man," said Sabatier, shortly. He knew that +the men in the wine shop were likely to follow his lead, and he was at a +loss to know how to treat Lucien Bruslart to-night.</p> + +<p>"Ay, Boissin, that's my name, and he asks you what you have to complain +of?"</p> + +<p>"Much, very much, citizen. It is not enough that a cursed aristocrat +uses my lodgings as a shelter while I am away from home, but a crowd of +unauthorized persons invade it and break a cabinet for which I have a +great affection. Maybe, since you were there, Citizen Boissin, you can +tell me who broke my cabinet."</p> + +<p>"Curse your cabinet!"</p> + +<p>"Curse you for coming to my lodgings without an invitation," said +Bruslart, quietly.</p> + +<p>There was a shuffling of feet, a promise of quick and dangerous +excitement, but Sabatier did not move, and Bruslart's eyes, as he +quietly sipped his wine, looked over the rim of the glass at Boissin, +who seemed confused and unable to bluster. There was a long pause which +was broken by a man seated at another table.</p> + +<p>"The breakage need not trouble you, Citizen Bruslart, your trouble will +come when you have to explain how the aristocrat came to be in your +lodgings."</p> + +<p>"Whether she entered by the door, or climbed in at the window, I cannot +say, since I was not at home," said Bruslart, with a smile. "My servant +must answer that question. What I want to know is, who is this +aristocrat?"</p> + +<p>In a moment every eye was turned upon him. Jacques Sabatier smiled.</p> + +<p>"I was going to the prison to ask that question," Bruslart went on. "She +is a woman, that I have heard of, but no more. I am interested enough to +wonder whether she was an acquaintance of mine in the past."</p> + +<p>"An acquaintance!" and there was a chorus of laughter.</p> + +<p>"It was Mademoiselle St. Clair," said Boissin.</p> + +<p>Lucien Bruslart did not start at the mention of the name, not an eye +fixed upon him could detect the slightest trembling in his hand as he +raised the glass to his lips and slowly drank the wine which was in it. +He knew perfectly well what a false move, or an ill-considered word, +might mean to him. There was not a man in that company who did not hate +the name of aristocrat, yet after their fashion, many of them had ties +which they held sacred. The same man who could spend hours rejoicing in +the bloodthirsty work of the guillotine would return home to kiss his +wife, and play innocently with his children. Bruslart knew that to pity +the aristocrat might be hardly more dangerous than to abuse the woman.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle St. Clair. In the past she was more than an +acquaintance," he said.</p> + +<p>"She is your lover," said half a dozen voices together.</p> + +<p>"She was," corrected Bruslart, quietly, "and therefore a little +sentiment enters into the affair. I could almost wish it had been some +other woman. That is natural, I think."</p> + +<p>"Ay; and it explains why she took shelter in your lodgings," said +Boissin.</p> + +<p>"True, it does; and, so far as I remember, it is the only personal +matter I have against her. I do not recall any other injury she has done +me. I am afraid, citizens, she has some case against me, for I grew +tired of her long ago."</p> + +<p>"She does not believe that, nor do I, for that matter," said Boissin.</p> + +<p>"What you believe is a matter of indifference to me, citizen," returned +Bruslart, "and as for the woman—well, she is in the Abbaye. Not every +man gets rid of his tiresome lovers as easily as I am likely to do. More +wine, landlord. We'll drink long life to liberty and death to all +aristocrats. And, Citizen Boissin, we must understand each other and +become better friends. I accused you of entering my lodgings without +invitation, now I invite you. Come when you will, you shall be welcome. +And, in the meanwhile, if there is any good patriot here who is a +carpenter, and can spare time for a job, there is money to be earned. He +shall mend my cabinet."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE BUSINESS OF RAYMOND LATOUR</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The arrest of an aristocrat, or of some poor wretch who had no claim to +the title, but served just as well for a victim, was a common enough +occurrence. In the first panic there had been a rush for safety across +the frontier, but there were many who remained, either not foreseeing +how grave the danger would become, or bravely determining to face the +trouble. Some, like Monsieur de Lafayette, true patriots at heart, had +attempted to direct the trouble, and being caught in its cyclonic fury +were at grips with death and disaster; some, like Lucien Bruslart, +having themselves or their friends to serve, openly threw in their lot +with the people, playing the while a double game which kept them walking +on the extreme edge of a precipice; and there were others who, finding +their bravery and honesty of no avail, realizing that it was now too +late to escape out of the country, hid themselves in humble lodgings, or +were concealed in the homes of faithful servants. There were patriots +who were ready to howl death to all aristocrats, and yet gave shelter to +some particular aristocrat who had treated them well in the past. +Kindnesses little heeded at the time saved many a man in his hour of +need.</p> + +<p>To Richard Barrington that slowly moving coach, surrounded by a filthy, +yelling mob, was a new and appalling thing; to Raymond Latour it was a +very ordinary matter, a necessary evil that France might be thoroughly +purged from its iniquity. When he laid his hand upon Barrington's arm, +he had no idea who the prisoner in the coach was. Had he known, he might +still have put out a restraining hand, realizing that to throw two lives +away uselessly was folly, but in the wine shop afterward he would have +treated his companion differently.</p> + +<p>That morning he had waited patiently for the coming of Mademoiselle St. +Clair. He had made a last inspection of the rooms he had hired, +satisfying himself that there was nothing left undone which it was in +his power to do for her. Then he had gone to his own room and tried to +read during the interval of waiting. His patience was strained to the +limit when, at noon, Mercier and Dubois arrived alone. He had expected +them long before. The delay had almost prepared him to hear that his +plans had been frustrated, yet the two men who had entered, afraid of +his anger, were surprised at the calmness with which he listened to +their story.</p> + +<p>It was not all the truth. Mercier said nothing of the amount of wine he +had drunk, nothing of his boasting. He described the men at the Lion +d'Or as truculent, easily ready to take offense, difficult to persuade.</p> + +<p>"They began by rejoicing that a market woman was on her way to Paris to +give evidence against an aristocrat," Mercier said, "and then the devil +prompted some man to speculate whether she might not be an aristocrat in +disguise. They were for making certain, and if she were an aristocrat +they would have hanged her in the inn yard. I had to threaten to shoot +the first man who attempted to mount the stairs."</p> + +<p>"And even then they only waited to get the better of us," said Dubois.</p> + +<p>"They left the inn sulkily at last," Mercier went on, "but all night we +kept guard upon the stairs, wasting precious hours as it happened."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Latour, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Soon after dawn we were startled by a groan from the end of a passage, +and we went to find a man lying there half dead. He had been badly +handled, near where he lay was a door opening onto stairs which went +down to the kitchens and the back entrance to the house. We went to +mademoiselle's room and found that she had gone. How it had been +accomplished neither Dubois nor I could tell, but we were both convinced +that some of the men had stolen back after leaving the inn and had taken +mademoiselle away, telling her some plausible tale to keep her silent. +We roused the sleeping inn and searched it from cellar to garret. From +the man lying in the passage we could get no coherent words, though we +wasted good brandy on him. We went to the village, and were not +satisfied until we had roused every man who had been at the Lion d'Or +that night. More hours wasted. Then we went back to the inn and found +the man revived somewhat. He declared that as he came to the top of the +stairs a man and a woman met him. Before he could utter a cry the man +seized him by the throat; he was choked and remembered nothing more. It +was natural that our suspicions should turn to this fellow Barrington +whom we had so easily outwitted at Beauvais. On this theory we asked +ourselves which way he would be likely to take mademoiselle. It did not +seem possible that they could enter Paris. We were at a loss what to +do, and indeed wasted more time in searching the country in the +neighborhood of the Lion d'Or for traces of the fugitives."</p> + +<p>"You have certainly wasted much time," said Latour. "Tell me, what is +this man Barrington like." He had already had a description from Jacques +Sabatier, but a word-picture from another source might make the man +clearer to him. Mercier's description was even better than Sabatier's.</p> + +<p>"Did you tell this story of the Lion d'Or at the barrier?"</p> + +<p>"No," Mercier answered. It was evidently the answer Latour wished to +receive, and in a sense it was true. Mercier had not proclaimed at the +barrier that he had been outwitted, and no one knew what business had +taken him from Paris; but he had said that he believed an emigré in the +disguise of a market woman had entered the city that morning. "What +emigré?" he was asked. "Mademoiselle St. Clair," he had answered. The +guard said nothing, no more inclined to confess to carelessness than +Mercier was, and Mercier and Dubois had ridden on convinced that +mademoiselle was not in Paris. At the barrier his remarks might have +been taken for badinage, a sneer at the vigilance which was kept, had +not the entrance of the quarreling market woman been remembered.</p> + +<p>"If she is in Paris, we shall find her," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"It is more likely she had ridden back to Beauvais," said Dubois. "If +she is wise that is the way she has taken."</p> + +<p>"Women in love are not always wise," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, citizen, this unfortunate business has interfered with +your plans. I am sorry. We had managed the whole affair so +excellently." Mercier was so relieved to find Latour so calm that he was +inclined to swagger.</p> + +<p>"Most excellently," was the answer. "I am as far from having +mademoiselle in my power as I was when you started."</p> + +<p>"Citizen—"</p> + +<p>"Is there need to say more?" Latour asked sharply. "I shall have other +work for you presently; see that it is accomplished better. Did you meet +Jacques Sabatier on the road this morning?"</p> + +<p>"No, citizen. We have not seen him since he met us at the tavern +yesterday and rode to Paris for your instructions. This morning we left +the road several times to make sure the fugitives were not hidden in +some shed or hollow. If he travelled to the Lion d'Or that is how we +must have missed him."</p> + +<p>"Come to me to-night at nine," he said, dismissing them. His anger was +great, but it did not suit him to say more.</p> + +<p>This was all Latour knew when he chanced upon Richard Barrington in the +afternoon. He was thinking of mademoiselle when the noise of the +approaching crowd reached him, and then he noticed the tall, strongly +knit figure of the man just before him. A second glance convinced him +that this was the American; therefore mademoiselle was in Paris. This +was the man who had brought all his scheming to naught; his enemy, a +daring and dangerous foe. He noted the expression on Barrington's face +as the crowd went by, saw the intention in his eyes. In another moment +his enemy might be destroyed, gashed with pikes, trampled under foot, +yet Latour put out his hand and stopped him. Why? Latour could not see +even his enemy throw his life away so uselessly. He hardly gave a +thought to the wretched prisoner in the coach, but his interest was keen +in the man who went with him to the wine shop. It was no mere phrase +when he said he was a man after his own heart, he meant it. Their paths +in life might be antagonistic, their ideals diametrically opposed, yet +in both men there was purpose and determination, a struggle towards +great achievement, a definite end to strive after. Circumstances might +make them the deadliest of foes, but there was a strong and natural +desire for friendship as they clasped hands.</p> + +<p>"I could love that man," Latour mused as he went towards the Rue Valette +afterwards. "Yet I must spy upon him and deceive him if I can. +Mademoiselle is in Paris and he knows where she is hidden. He is +Bruslart's friend, and Bruslart I hate."</p> + +<p>He climbed the stairs to his room to find Sabatier waiting for him on +the landing.</p> + +<p>"I have heard," said Latour, unlocking his door and entering the room +with his visitor, "I have heard the whole story. The fools have been +outwitted. I have just left this man Barrington."</p> + +<p>"Citizen, I do not think you have heard the whole story."</p> + +<p>Latour turned quickly. Something in the man's tone startled him.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle was taken to the Abbaye prison this afternoon," said +Sabatier.</p> + +<p>A cry, a little cry almost like the whine of a small animal suddenly +hurt, escaped from Latour's lips. His strength seemed to go out of him, +and he sank into a chair by the table, his face pale, his hands +trembling.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he said, his voice a whisper.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say how suspicion first arose, but some one at the barrier +must have started it. Whether it was a guess, or whether some one +recalled her face some time after she had been allowed to pass, I do not +know, nor does it matter much. It got wind that Mademoiselle St. Clair +had entered Paris, and where in Paris would she be most likely to +go?—to Citizen Bruslart's. A crowd was quickly on its way there. +Bruslart was away from home, but they would go in, and there they found +her. Not an hour ago they were shouting round her as they took her to +the Abbaye."</p> + +<p>"There is wine in that cupboard, Sabatier—thanks. This news has taken +the nerve out of me. Bruslart must have known she was in his house. +Barrington would leave her there."</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure of that," said Sabatier. "I do not know how much this +Barrington suspects, but I do not think he is a man to make so obvious a +mistake. I give him credit for more cunning, and with reason, I think."</p> + +<p>"And Bruslart must have known the danger," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"He may not, if he supposed mademoiselle had managed to get into Paris +unseen. I cannot understand Citizen Bruslart."</p> + +<p>"Dieu! Did he betray her himself, Sabatier?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. If I could see any object in his doing so I might +suspect him."</p> + +<p>"The Abbaye," Latour muttered, getting up and pacing the room. "The +Abbaye. We must get her out, Sabatier. She would never be acquitted. Had +she remained in Paris, the good she has done to the poor might have been +remembered in her favor, but an emigré, her great name and all that it +stands for—. No, she is as surely doomed as any prisoner who has +entered the Abbaye. I have business at the prison to-night, Sabatier. I +may learn something of her."</p> + +<p>"Wait, citizen. To-morrow will do. You will not be careful enough +to-night."</p> + +<p>Latour paused by the table, a little astonished perhaps at the concern +in his companion's voice. Sabatier was to be trusted as a man who served +well for payment, but his hands had been red often, and it was strange +to hear anything like sentiment from his lips.</p> + +<p>"One would think you had some real affection for me," said Latour.</p> + +<p>Sabatier swaggered to hide such weakness. "I am a man, citizen, who +fears nothing. I can recognize another man who fears God or man as +little as I do."</p> + +<p>"The wine has cured me," said Latour. "I shall do my business, nothing +more. I am not a fool. There will be no need of carefulness. Sabatier, +to-morrow you must find out what Citizen Bruslart does. His movements +may be interesting."</p> + +<p>"And this man Barrington?"</p> + +<p>"Leave him to me," answered Latour.</p> + +<p>No man knew better when to wait and when to act than Raymond Latour, and +few men had a keener perception of possibilities, of chances which were +worth taking, of risks it was unwise to run. He appreciated his own +power and influence to the very turn of a hair in the balance, and +although to his companions he might exaggerate or underrate that +influence to suit the occasion, he never made the fatal mistake of +deceiving himself in the matter. Under ordinary circumstances, had his +interest been aroused in a prisoner, he would have gone openly to those +in authority and put the case before them, with every confidence not +only of being listened to, but of getting his request granted. He had a +strong following and was too powerful to offend. But for such a prisoner +as Mademoiselle St. Clair, he knew that he dare not plead. The strongest +man in Paris would be howled down by the mob if he attempted to procure +her acquittal. She was closely connected with the best hated families of +France, she stood not for herself but for what she represented, and the +mob had assisted at no capture that pleased it more. This knowledge had +for a moment robbed Latour of his nerve and courage. Strong man and +self-contained as he was, he had not been able to control himself and +hide his fear from Jacques Sabatier; yet now, as he passed quickly +through the streets in the direction of the Abbaye prison, his step was +firm, his face resolute, his course of action determined upon.</p> + +<p>For an hour he talked with two friends of his who were in charge of this +prison of the Abbaye, laughed and rejoiced with them at the arrest of +such an important emigré that day; and then, at their prophecy that she +would not be long in their keeping, that the tribunal would see to it +that she went speedily upon her last journey to the Place de la +Revolution, Latour ventured a protest—the first move in his scheme. It +was so definite a protest that his companions were astonished.</p> + +<p>"What! Does a woman appeal to you? Are you losing your hatred for +aristocrats?"</p> + +<p>"The woman appeals to me in a curious way," Latour answered. "After all, +what is she? A little fish out of a great shoal. I would net in the +shoal. It is not difficult with this little fish for bait. Do you not +see how it is? This little fish is precious to the shoal, and lost, the +shoal, or part of it, at any rate, will turn to find her. So long as it +is known that she lives, there will be other emigrés stealing into Paris +to look for Mademoiselle St. Clair."</p> + +<p>"You are right. Delay will be wise," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Urge it, then," said Latour, with gleaming, sinister eyes. "Urge it. +You are the keepers of prisoners and should know best when to spare and +when to kill. It is not my business, and I have a name for gentleness in +some matters, a reputation which it suits me to preserve, but I am +bloodthirsty enough to give you good advice."</p> + +<p>Latour knew how swift revolutionary justice was sometimes. It might be +only a matter of hours between mademoiselle and the guillotine. He had +counseled delay, confident that these men would counsel it in their +turn, and take to themselves the credit for so excellent an idea.</p> + +<p>He had other business as he passed along the corridor of the prison, a +jest with the red-capped turnkey concerning the pretty birds he tended +so lovingly.</p> + +<p>"Some of them sing even, citizen," answered the man, with a great, +coarse laugh. "Shall I show you some of my pets? You may not have +another opportunity."</p> + +<p>"I do not understand birds."</p> + +<p>"Will you not look at the new one caught only to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, the aristocrat! I had forgotten her. Where is she caged?"</p> + +<p>"Yonder, a small cage, and with three others not of her breed. She does +not sing, citizen, she scolds. I tell you she has some strange oaths and +curses at her tongue tip, and mingles them curiously with prayers for +deliverance."</p> + +<p>Latour laughed. He must show no anger at this man's humor, and he had +nothing to suggest which might secure mademoiselle greater comfort.</p> + +<p>He glanced along the corridor in the direction the man had pointed. A +few yards of passage and a locked door were all that separated him from +the woman he would help. The temptation to look upon her for a moment +was great, the thought that by a glance he might convey a message of +assurance to her seemed to offer an excuse, but he resisted the +temptation.</p> + +<p>"I shall see enough of your birds when you send them on their last +flight," he said, carelessly. "I hoped to see Mathon—where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Drinking in the nearest wine shop, citizen, I'll wager, since he is off +duty."</p> + +<p>"It is a bad habit for turnkeys to drink," said Latour, severely, and +the red-capped bully felt a sudden qualm of nervousness in his frame as +he remembered how powerful this man was.</p> + +<p>"Mathon is a good fellow. I spoke in jest, not to do him harm. When he +has the keys in his keeping he does not drink, citizen."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear that," answered Latour, as he passed on.</p> + +<p>He found the turnkey Mathon in a neighboring wine shop, and called him +out. The order was peremptory, and the man came quickly. Mathon had a +history. He had been lackey to a nobleman, and while shouting with +patriots in the beginning of the trouble, had helped his old master and +his master's friends. Since then he had mended his ways and become a +true patriot, with no desire to help a living soul but himself, with no +sentiment and no fear in him except for one man—Raymond Latour. Latour +knew the truth about him, was the only man who did, and held the proof, +therefore Mathon was bound to serve him. He came quickly out of the wine +shop and followed Latour into a side street.</p> + +<p>"You know the room where this aristocrat was placed to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, citizen."</p> + +<p>"She is not likely to be moved from there?"</p> + +<p>"No, citizen, not until—not until she is condemned."</p> + +<p>"When will you be in charge of the keys of her prison?"</p> + +<p>"Not for a week, citizen."</p> + +<p>"A week!"</p> + +<p>"My turn for that part of the prison comes in a week, and she may not be +there then. If you would speak with her, I might manage it before then."</p> + +<p>"I do not want speech with her," Latour returned.</p> + +<p>Mathon looked at him sharply.</p> + +<p>"More than speech," said Latour. "In a week I will see you again. You +shall run small risk, I will see to that."</p> + +<p>Mathon nodded, he could not refuse his help, though his throat grew dry, +and the collar of his shirt seemed to tighten as he thought of what the +consequences might be. He hastened back to the wine shop and Latour +returned to the Rue Valette slowly, thinking of a week hence.</p> + +<p>He hardly noticed those who passed him on the way, and was certainly +quite unconscious of the figure which followed him like a shadow.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>AN APPEAL TO FRIENDSHIP</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Raymond Latour was a busy man, he seldom missed attending the meetings +of the Convention, and was assiduous in his work upon the various +committees of public instruction, domains, liquidation and finance. It +was therefore past noon on the following day when Sabatier found him and +related what had occurred at the wine shop on the previous evening.</p> + +<p>"Citizen Bruslart is no coward," concluded Sabatier, as though he +considered even grudging praise from a man like himself conferred +distinction upon the recipient. "When he entered, every patriot there +was ready to fly at his throat, yet before the evening was ended he was +a hero."</p> + +<p>"He must still be watched," said Latour. "I have always told you that he +was clever."</p> + +<p>"He would be safer arrested, citizen. Indeed, is it not almost certain +that he will be since this aristocrat was found in his apartment?"</p> + +<p>"He has wasted no time," Latour answered. "Quite early this morning he +saw certain members of the Convention and explained matters. It was the +same story as he told in the wine shop, and he was believed."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe him?" Sabatier asked.</p> + +<p>The smile upon Latour's face suggested that he had no great faith in +any one, that it was a sign of weakness to trust any man fully, and +folly to express an opinion on such a subject.</p> + +<p>"For all his professions of innocence a word would suffice to have him +arrested," said Sabatier.</p> + +<p>"It is the very last word I want spoken," Latour answered. "As you know, +I have a personal interest in this affair. Citizen Bruslart is one of +the cards in the game I play. Such a card in the hand is not to be +carelessly thrown away, for there will surely come a time when it will +be played with effect. Until then, Sabatier, make it your business to +believe in Citizen Bruslart's patriotism, discourage as much as you can +any questioning of it among those with whom you come in contact. Twice +already to-day I have been loud in his praises. For the present he is +safe, and we can watch him easily."</p> + +<p>Perhaps Latour trusted Sabatier more fully than he did any of the others +who served him, and there were many. He was farseeing enough to +understand that popularity only was not sufficient security, that with +the conflicting and changing interests which ruled Paris and the +country, the friends of to-day might easily become the enemies of +to-morrow. It was necessary to obtain some stronger hold upon the fickle +populace, a security which was rooted in fear and ignorance of the +extent of his power and knowledge. He had been careful, therefore, that +the interests of those who served him should not be identical, that +their individual importance should lie in different directions, in +various quarters of the city and among different sections of the +revolutionists whose aims and views were in many ways opposed to one +another. The result was that Latour's power was appreciated on all +sides, yet only imperfectly understood, and in the Convention he passed +for something of an enigma, yet a man who was far safer as a friend than +as an enemy. These confederates of his had one thing in common, however; +all of them were beholden to Raymond Latour. He held some secret +concerning each one of them; their lives, or at least their well-being, +were in his hands; no one of them had his full confidence, and they +could not afford either to deceive or betray him. His position was as +secure as any man's in Paris. That he had enemies he knew, but they dare +not strike; that he was watched he did not doubt, but the fact did not +trouble him. Yet, at this juncture of his schemes, the espionage of one +person who dogged his footsteps might have made him apprehensive had he +known of it.</p> + +<p>Seth, a hunter and trapper by nature, the son and grandson of men who +for their own safety had to be trained in the subtle methods of the +Indian, who himself had had no small experience in this respect, and +easily followed a trail which was no trail to ordinary eyes, found +little difficulty in watching Latour's movements. Barrington had taken +Seth to the Rue Valette last night, and from the shadow on the opposite +side of the street had pointed out Latour to him. Seth had followed +Latour to the Abbaye prison, had seen him call Mathon from the +neighboring wine shop, and before he slept Barrington had received the +information. That Latour should go so promptly to this particular prison +was at least surprising. He might have business there which had nothing +to do with Jeanne St. Clair, he might still be in ignorance of the +identity of the occupant of that coach, but Barrington could not believe +this to be the case. He was much rather inclined to think with Lucien +Bruslart that Latour had had a part in her betrayal.</p> + +<p>One thing was certain, he must make use of the friendship Latour had +offered him. There was danger in it no doubt, but Mademoiselle St. +Clair's life was at stake, so the danger counted for nothing. Moreover, +Barrington had papers in his possession to prove what his object was in +coming to France, and he had already thrown out the suggestion to Latour +that his reason in smuggling mademoiselle into Paris might have been a +sinister one; and since Latour must have enemies, there would at least +be some who would believe Barrington's statement that this deputy was +ready to plot on behalf of an aristocrat, that over his wine he had +confessed it. The struggle with Raymond Latour might be a more equal one +than it appeared on a first consideration.</p> + +<p>Next morning he told Seth his plans. "First I shall see Monsieur +Bruslart early this afternoon as arranged. Unless he should have had +some extraordinary success last night, which is hardly to be expected, I +shall then go and see Latour."</p> + +<p>"It may be only to walk into a den of lions," said Seth.</p> + +<p>"Probably, but I am not altogether without means of taming them—and you +know, Seth, where I have gone. If I am missing, it will be your task to +find where I am, and if necessary, you must go to the Marquis de +Lafayette and tell him."</p> + +<p>"You will have also told Monsieur Bruslart."</p> + +<p>"I am not sure," Barrington answered. "It will depend on circumstances."</p> + +<p>"I should be inclined to let circumstances prevent it," said Seth. "I +have not much faith in the help of a man who is so sure of his own +cleverness that he takes the woman he loves to the very place where a +child might know she would be in the greatest danger."</p> + +<p>"I cannot understand that, I must confess, Seth."</p> + +<p>"Well, Master Richard, I've always found it a good rule to have as +little as possible to do with people you don't understand."</p> + +<p>It was wise advice, perhaps, but the fact that Barrington had accused +himself of entertaining a selfish hope that Lucien Bruslart was not a +worthy man inclined him to believe in him, to trust him. He had, indeed, +greater reason to do so now that grave suspicion was attached to Latour.</p> + +<p>There was nothing of the despair of last night in Bruslart's manner +to-day when Barrington saw him. It had not been replaced by confidence, +but a dogged purpose was in his face, and a calm calculation in his +words.</p> + +<p>"I have done something but not much," he said. "After leaving you last +evening, I fell in with a lot of patriots and I was quickly aware that I +was in greater danger than I had imagined. I had to think of myself, for +once my word is discredited, all my power to help mademoiselle is gone."</p> + +<p>"Have you succeeded in re-establishing your credit?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. I understand the mob and played to it. I had to lie of +course, lies are the chief currency in Paris to-day. I knew nothing of +mademoiselle's coming, I said; I did not even know the name of the +aristocrat who had been arrested in my apartment, and naturally, as a +true patriot I rejoiced at her arrest. I was considered a very fine +fellow before the evening was out."</p> + +<p>"But mademoiselle was not helped much," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I could not move on her behalf until this morning. First I +have ascertained that her imprisonment in the Abbaye is so far +fortunate, since it means that there is no desire to bring her to trial +hurriedly. This gives us time. Then I have interviewed one or two +members of the Convention. I need not tell you, Monsieur Barrington, +that most of these men who are striving for individual power are afraid +of one another. Each one wants staunch supporters and is ready to pay +any price for them. It is worth while obtaining my support, so these men +listened earnestly to me. They are inclined to help me."</p> + +<p>"How?" asked Barrington.</p> + +<p>"It is too early to decide, but I am hoping that we shall be able to +show that mademoiselle was in Paris for a legitimate purpose, to help +the distress in the city, for example; something, at any rate, to make +the mob shout for her release. That way her prison doors would be +quickly opened. The respite might be short lived, but it would be long +enough. Then would come your part of the work, to see her safely back to +Beauvais."</p> + +<p>"And what further steps can you take towards this end?"</p> + +<p>"Careful ones," Bruslart answered. "First gain the interest of other +members of the Convention; secondly, let the reason for mademoiselle's +return gradually be known among the poor in the Faubourg St. Antoine, +and elsewhere. I can drop a spark or two in different directions, and +the mob is tow. The fire will spread."</p> + +<p>"But if it does not?" asked Barrington.</p> + +<p>"You are depressing, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"I want to act."</p> + +<p>"It must be with caution," said Bruslart, "and with deceit. We can make +no appeal to justice, because justice does not exist in Paris."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to say against your plans," Barrington returned. "I am +only wondering whether we cannot work in another direction as well, so +that if one way fail we may have the other to fall back on."</p> + +<p>"You are still thinking of the power of gold."</p> + +<p>"It seldom fails with such men as seem to be the rulers in Paris," said +Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not, but it would fail now. Power is more to these men than +gold. The one can be used and gloried in, evidence of the other would +only make the mob suspicious. Is there any other way you can suggest?"</p> + +<p>Barrington was thoughtful for a moment, making up his mind whether he +should tell Lucien Bruslart of Latour's movements.</p> + +<p>"No," he said slowly, "I have no other suggestion to make."</p> + +<p>"I have every hope of success," said Bruslart, "but I am going to appear +discourteous, Monsieur Barrington. It is necessary that I shall be +considered a patriot of patriots, nothing must jeopardize such a +character at the present time. Now it is more than probable that there +are men in Paris who saw you at the barriers with mademoiselle, it would +be dangerous to my character if you were seen visiting me."</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>"And you forgive the seeming discourtesy?"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to forgive. The idea crossed my mind on the way here, +and I was cautious."</p> + +<p>"Close to the Place du Carrousal," said Bruslart, "in a side street, +there is a wine shop, an iron sign representing three barrels hangs over +the door; if you could pass there every afternoon at four, I could find +you when I was ready for your help."</p> + +<p>Barrington promised to make a habit of passing this place at four in the +afternoon and took his leave. He had hoped that Bruslart would have +accomplished more, but it was something that he had done so much. It was +absurd to feel any disappointment, in so short a time what more could he +have done? Yet Barrington walked rapidly and in the direction of the Rue +Valette. Bruslart had said nothing to alter his determination to see +Raymond Latour.</p> + +<p>He saw nothing of Seth in the street, and hardly expected to find Latour +at home, but no sooner had he knocked than the door was opened and +Latour welcomed him. He locked the door again when Barrington had +entered.</p> + +<p>"I am fond of study," he said, pointing to some open books on the table.</p> + +<p>"And I disturb you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I think I have almost been expecting you."</p> + +<p>Barrington did not answer. It was necessary that he should get the +measure of this man, understand the working of his mind, see the +thoughts which were concealed behind his words. Barrington was as alert +as though rapiers were in their hands, and only the death of one of them +could satisfy the quarrel.</p> + +<p>"Is it necessary for me to tell you that I guessed who you were +yesterday?" said Latour.</p> + +<p>"No, I knew that."</p> + +<p>"It was not until I returned here that I knew who was in that coach. +That is why I have been expecting you."</p> + +<p>Barrington sat down, and with his elbows on the table supported his +chin in his hands. In this position he looked fixedly at his companion, +and neither of them spoke for a few moments. Then Latour sat down on the +opposite side of the table.</p> + +<p>"I see how it is, Monsieur Barrington, you do not believe me. I am not +surprised. I am sufficiently well known in Paris for you to have +discovered, if you have taken the slightest trouble to inquire, that I +am a red republican, anathema to those who desire milder methods, a +bloodhound where aristocrats are concerned. Still, I did not know who +was in that coach any more than you did."</p> + +<p>"If you had known?" asked Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I should still have put out my hand to preserve your life."</p> + +<p>"Are you quite sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure."</p> + +<p>"You would not have rushed with me into that crowd, thinking of nothing +but the woman in the coach."</p> + +<p>"What should make you think so?"</p> + +<p>"You forget perhaps that you told me there was a woman, an aristocrat, +for whom you would do much," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I do not forget, but the will to do much does not mean the will to die +for her."</p> + +<p>"No? I think it did," Barrington returned. "I judged by the man's face, +not his words."</p> + +<p>Latour smiled, as he closed the books upon the table and put them +together.</p> + +<p>"You may be right," he said; "the temptation has not yet come to me. The +other idea that is in your mind is wrong. Mademoiselle St. Clair is not +the woman I am interested in."</p> + +<p>"Then we start on level ground," said Barrington, "the ground which was +of your own suggesting—friendship. I do not believe my face is a +telltale one, but would you feel confident that I would do you a service +if I could?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then, Monsieur Latour, what are you going to do to help me to save +Mademoiselle St. Clair?"</p> + +<p>"The question is not unexpected," said Latour, after a pause. "I might +easily answer it with the bare statement that I could do nothing. It +would be true enough, for, in one sense, I am powerless; my conscience +would be clear because I should be acting up to my principles. But let +us consider the question for a moment. You are acting for Citizen Lucien +Bruslart."</p> + +<p>"He does not know that I am here."</p> + +<p>"I quite appreciate that you are not a man to trust any one implicitly +on so short an acquaintance, but you know perfectly well that to rescue +Mademoiselle St. Clair is to save her for Lucien Bruslart."</p> + +<p>"And if it be so?"</p> + +<p>"The enterprise does not much appeal to me," said Latour. "Let me be +more explicit than I was yesterday. I know Bruslart, not the man only +but the very soul of the man. It is black, monsieur, black as hell. +Mademoiselle had far better look through the little window than trust +such a man. The guillotine does its work quickly, but the misery of a +woman who trusts Lucien Bruslart must be the affair of a lifetime."</p> + +<p>"If she is saved, is it so certain that it will be for Citizen +Bruslart?" Barrington asked.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE PRISONER OF THE ABBAYE</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The week of waiting passed slowly for Raymond Latour. He knew the risk +he was running, but never for an instant was he tempted to turn from his +purpose. His whole being was centered upon the enterprise; the saving of +this woman was an essential thing, and every other consideration of +country or self must give way to it. He was quite willing to sacrifice +himself if necessary, but at the same time he intended to guard against +such a necessity as much as possible. He worked with cunning and +calculation, going over every point in his scheme and eliminating as far +as possible every element of chance. The unlikely things which might +happen were considered, and provided for. Only two persons had any part +in the scheme, Jacques Sabatier and Mathon, the jailer; each had his own +particular work in it, had received definite and minute instructions, +yet neither of them knew the whole plot. Latour did not take them +entirely into his confidence; he did not ask their advice, he only told +them how to act.</p> + +<p>The week was as any other week to Jacques Sabatier. Uplifted somewhat by +Latour's confidence in him, his swaggering gait was perhaps a little +more pronounced, but he was untouched by apprehension, not so much +because he was a fearless man—like all swaggerers adverse +circumstances would probably find him at heart a coward—but because he +had implicit faith in Raymond Latour. The man he served was not only +powerful and courageous; he was lucky, which counted for much. What he +had set his heart upon that he obtained. It was a creed in which +Sabatier had absolute faith, and the passing week was merely an interval +which must elapse before success.</p> + +<p>Mathon the jailer had not this sublime faith, and his fearfulness was +perhaps natural. As a jailer he was in close touch with facts and knew +by experience how unstable in these days was any man's power. A week had +often served to change a master whose anger was dangerous into a +prisoner whose name might at any moment be upon the list of those +destined forthwith to feed the guillotine. He had not been brought so +constantly in touch with Latour that he could appreciate him as a lucky +man, and he contemplated his part in the enterprise with misgiving.</p> + +<p>The plot was to be carried out on the second night upon which Mathon was +on duty. This was the first precaution. Were he a party to +mademoiselle's escape it would be argued that he would have seized the +first opportunity; that he had not done so would go some way to prove +his innocence. On this evening, too, Mathon was particularly loud in his +hatred of all prisoners, of one emigré prisoner in particular, and his +manners were brutal. There would be many witnesses able to prove this. +In one small room at the end of a corridor he was particularly brutal. +He made the mere unlocking of the door a nerve-racking sound, and +stamped in swearing under his breath. Three women drew back into a +corner, trembling. They were women of a coarse bourgeois type, their +chief crime misfortune. They knew only imperfectly of what they were +accused, why they were there, but they had few friends to spare a +thought for them and expected each day to be their last. Sometimes they +were afraid and tearful, at other times careless, loose, and +blasphemous, despair making them unnatural, and in this mood it pleased +them to curse their fellow prisoner, also a woman, and an aristocrat.</p> + +<p>Mathon laughed as they shrank from him.</p> + +<p>"Disappointed again," he said. "You are not called to-night. You will +have another pleasant dream about it. Perhaps to-morrow your turn will +come. It's time. This fine apartment is wanted for better people."</p> + +<p>Then he turned and walked towards the fourth prisoner. If she were +afraid she succeeded in hiding the fact. She was standing by the window +and she did not move.</p> + +<p>"As for you, your time is short," said the jailer, and then coming quite +close to her he dropped his voice. "Listen, and don't show astonishment. +You will be released probably. When the time comes, ask no questions, +don't speak, do as you are told." Then he swore loudly again and, +jingling his keys, went out and locked the door.</p> + +<p>He swore partly to keep his own courage at the proper pitch, for the +dismal corridors of the Abbaye were depressing to-night. Approaching +footsteps startled Mathon, and the sudden salutation of a comrade turned +him pale. The night was oppressive, yet he found it cold enough to make +him shiver.</p> + +<p>Presently there came heavy footsteps, and two of those dreaded officers +of the Convention, men whose hours were occupied in spreading terror and +in feeding the guillotine, stood before him.</p> + +<p>"Jailer Mathon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You have in your charge an emigré, Jeanne St. Clair. She is to be +removed forthwith to the Conciergerie. There is the order."</p> + +<p>Mathon took up a lantern and by the dim light read the paper handed to +him. It was all in order, the full name of the emigré duly inserted, the +genuine signature of the governor of the prison at the foot of the +document. The jailer looked from the paper into the face of the man who +had handed it to him.</p> + +<p>"Do they set over prisoners fools who cannot read?" asked the man.</p> + +<p>"No; the paper is in order," Mathon answered.</p> + +<p>"Obey it then. Fetch out the emigré."</p> + +<p>Mathon folded up the paper and placed it in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"It is down this passage," and his keys jingled. His fingers trembled a +little as the men followed him. A few yards from the door the men +halted.</p> + +<p>"Bring her quickly. We have other work to do to-night more important +than this."</p> + +<p>Mathon unlocked the door and entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne St. Clair, your turn has come."</p> + +<p>The woman moved slowly.</p> + +<p>"Quickly," said Mathon. "Your head's still in its place. Wrap the hood +of your cloak well round it. There's no need to feel cold before the +time. Don't speak," he added in a whisper.</p> + +<p>They went out together, Mathon locking the door again.</p> + +<p>"This is the prisoner."</p> + +<p>The officers without a word placed themselves on either side of her, and +they went quickly along the corridor leaving the jailer alone, one hand +holding his keys, the other pressed to his pocket to make sure that the +order he had obeyed still rested there.</p> + +<p>A <i>berlin</i> stood in the little square before the prison, the driver half +asleep. He had no imagination, this driver, and this square was to him +as any other in Paris. Yet on another night, not long since, how +different it had been! Then a mob filled it, filled it to overflowing, a +mob mad with lust of blood and murder, armed with sabers, pikes and +hatchets, any weapon that came to hand. Within the prison sat a sudden +jury, a mockery of Justice; without stood Fate. A brief questioning, the +veriest caricature of a trial, and prisoners were escorted to the doors, +but no farther. The rest of the journey they must go alone. A lane +opened before them, all must traverse it, old and young, man or woman. +It was a short journey, and amid frenzied shrieks they fell under the +sabers and the pikes. There was no mercy, only red death and horror. +Rain had fallen in Paris since then, yet surely there must still be +blood in the gutters of this square. The driver could not tell where he +had been that night, not here certainly, but wherever it was he was +minding his own business. He had enough to do to live from day to day, +and had no use for a long memory. He had carried people, men and women, +from one prison to another before this, and took no special interest in +this job. The revolution mattered little to him if he could get +sufficient for his wants. He had a room high up in the Faubourg St. +Antoine, with a wife and child in it, and cared little what heads fell +daily in the Place de la Revolution. He woke from his reverie at the +sound of footsteps. A woman was helped into the coach quickly, a man +following her and closing the door sharply behind him. A second man +climbed to the box beside the driver.</p> + +<p>"To the Conciergerie," he said.</p> + +<p>The woman in the coach did not speak, but leaned back in the corner. The +man was also silent until they had driven away from the square.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, mademoiselle," he said presently. "We are driving in the +direction of the Conciergerie, but the way will be altered in a few +minutes. My comrade will arrange that. Keep your cloak well round you +and do not speak. You and I will have to walk presently to a safe +retreat already prepared. You must do exactly as you are told or we may +fail. Your escape may be discovered at any moment."</p> + +<p>The woman did not answer. She had no idea who her companion was, had +perhaps a doubt in her mind concerning him, but she determined to obey; +indeed, what else could she do?</p> + +<p>The man beside the driver was silent, and sat in a somewhat bent +attitude as though he were desirous of attracting no attention, yet his +eyes were keen as the coach went forward at a jogging pace, and if any +passer-by seemed to show any interest in the conveyance he was quick to +note the fact.</p> + +<p>"Take the next turning to the left," he said suddenly.</p> + +<p>"That is not the way," returned the driver.</p> + +<p>"It's my way. We might fall in with a crowd."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"To the left," said the man. "I will direct you."</p> + +<p>The coach turned into the street indicated, and afterward round this +corner and that at the bidding of the man on the box until the driver +was utterly confused.</p> + +<p>"I'm lost, citizen," he said; "and what's more I believe you are, too."</p> + +<p>"You'll see directly. Sharp round to the right here."</p> + +<p>The driver turned.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's as I said, you've lost yourself. This is a blind alley."</p> + +<p>Indeed it was, a narrow lane between high walls, a place where refuse +collected and was allowed to remain undisturbed, a place upon which +looked no prying window and which echoed to no footfall.</p> + +<p>The driver had turned to jeer at his companion when he found himself +seized in a grip there was no fighting against. He tried to call out, +but succeeded in giving only a whispered respiration, and then a heavy +blow robbed him of his senses.</p> + +<p>The coach door opened. The man inside got out quickly and helped the +woman to descend.</p> + +<p>"Keep silent, mademoiselle; it is all arranged," he whispered, and in a +few moments he had divested himself of his coat and hat, of everything +which marked him as an officer of the Convention, and even of the shaggy +hair which hung about his eyes and neck, and threw all this disguise +into the coach. He was another man altogether. "Come; we must walk. The +worst danger is past."</p> + +<p>The man who had sat on the box was bending over the coachman. He said +nothing, did not even look up as the two went swiftly down the alley. +When they had gone he, too, divested himself of everything that proved +him an officer of the Convention and of the wig which had concealed his +identity. These he put into the coach. Then he lifted the unconscious +driver from the ground and put him into the coach also, closing the door +upon him. The horse had not attempted to move. He was a tired, worn-out +beast, glad to rest when and where he could. He was unlikely to move +until his master roused to make him, and the dawn might be no longer +young when that happened, unless some stray pedestrian should chance +down that deserted way.</p> + +<p>For an hour that evening Raymond Latour plied his friends and fellow +patriots with wine. So glorious an hour seemed of long duration. In case +of accident there would be a score of good witnesses to swear that their +friend the deputy had been drinking with them all the evening. Under the +influence of wine and loud patriotism the flight of time is of no +account.</p> + +<p>It was close on midnight when Latour entered the alley by the baker's +shop in the Rue Valette, walking slowly. Seated at the top of the stairs +he found Sabatier.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and asleep probably," said Sabatier, answering the question in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"It was well done," said Latour. "Come to me early to-morrow. This man +Barrington may be suspected and must be warned."</p> + +<p>"And Bruslart?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow we must think of him, too. Good night, citizen."</p> + +<p>Sabatier went down the stairs, and Latour entered his room.</p> + +<p>Midnight! Was she yet asleep? Sabatier had told her nothing except that +she was safe, and that the man who had planned her rescue would come to +her and explain everything. She would think it was Lucien Bruslart. Who +would be so likely to run such risk for her sake? Only one other man +might occur to her, the man who had already done so much to help +her—Richard Barrington. Would she be likely to sleep easily to-night? +No. Surely she was wide awake, waiting and watching.</p> + +<p>Raymond Latour went quietly up the next flight of stairs to the room +above his own which he had furnished and made ready with such infinite +trouble. She was not so safe in these rooms as she would have been had +he succeeded in bringing her there in the first instance, straight from +the Lion d'Or as he had intended. Bruslart could not have suspected him +then as he must certainly do now; but Bruslart could only work in +secret, he dare not speak openly, and Barrington was powerless. To-night +Latour would say little. He would look upon her for a moment, be assured +that she had everything for her comfort, proclaim himself only as one of +those who had had a part in her rescue, and receive some thanks. This +would be enough for to-night.</p> + +<p>The key was in the lock on the outside of the door. Latour knocked +before turning it.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Come in."</p> + +<p>The answer was faint. She was in the inner room. Even when told to +enter, Latour hesitated. This was a crisis in his life, fully understood +and appreciated. Here was the accomplishment of something he had labored +for; it was natural to hesitate. Then he turned the key and went in.</p> + +<p>The room was in darkness, but the light of a candle came from the inner +room, and the next moment the door opened wide and a woman stood there, +a beautiful woman, dark in hair and eyes, with figure as lissom as a +young animal, poised just now half expectantly, half in fear.</p> + +<p>A sharp exclamation came from Latour's lips as he leaned forward to +look at her.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I—" and then a flush of anger came into her face. "Am I +still to be insulted?"</p> + +<p>"In the devil's name, woman, who are you?"</p> + +<p>Latour had crossed the space between them in a hasty stride or two, and +his fingers were tightly round the woman's wrist.</p> + +<p>"What right—"</p> + +<p>"Who are you? Answer."</p> + +<p>For a moment longer she was defiant, even made a feeble struggle to free +herself, but the man's eyes were upon her and she was compelled to look +into them. Anger blazed in them, anger was in every line of his set +face. She had seen this man before, knew he was Raymond Latour, knew his +power, and she was afraid.</p> + +<p>"I am Pauline Vaison," she said in a low tone.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE TAVERN AT THE CHAT ROUGE</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Terribly leaden-footed had this week of waiting been to Richard +Barrington. He had not seen Lucien Bruslart, although each afternoon he +had passed the wine shop with the sign of the three barrels. He had +nothing to occupy him, and for most of the day he remained within doors. +He shrank from witnessing the squalor and savagery which might at any +moment be met in the streets; he could not bear the sight or the sound +of those slowly rolling tumbrils carrying their wretched victims to the +guillotine, and he would not go in the direction of the Place de la +Revolution even when there was no yelling crowd there, when the scaffold +was untenanted and the great knife still. Another consideration kept him +indoors. His constant presence in the streets might serve to make his +face and figure familiar, and this would be a disadvantage if he were +presently to help Mademoiselle St. Clair to escape from Paris.</p> + +<p>In the house of Monsieur Fargeau life ran a smooth and even course, if +not entirely ignorant of the revolution, at least having no personal +concern with it. The shouting mob did not penetrate into this quiet +corner of the city. Monsieur Fargeau knew nothing of politics, and was +ignorant of the very names of many of those members of the Convention +who were filling distant parts of Europe with horror and loathing. Some +people had lost their lives, he was aware of that; possibly they had +only met with their deserts, he did not know. The times were hard, but +he was prepared for a rainy day, and could afford to wait until business +improved again. To do the Marquis de Lafayette a service he had let +rooms to two Americans, who paid him well, who said pleasant things to +his wife and children when they met them on the stairs, and beyond this +he thought or cared little about them. He knew nothing of their reason +for being in Paris, and had no idea that he was harboring dangerous +characters. Both Barrington and Seth had been careful to leave and +return to their lodgings cautiously, and by a roundabout route, and were +convinced that if they were watched they had succeeded in baffling the +spies in discovering their hiding place. Barrington was therefore rather +startled one afternoon when, as he returned from his daily walk past the +wine shop, a man suddenly came from a doorway and spoke his name in a +low tone.</p> + +<p>"It is Monsieur Barrington?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You may remember me, monsieur. I am a servant to Monsieur de +Lafayette."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I thought I recognized your face. You have a message for me?"</p> + +<p>"My master has left Paris, monsieur. There was a rumor that he was in +the city, and he was in danger of arrest. He has rejoined the army in +the North, but it may not be possible for him to stay there. If not, he +will ride across the Belgian frontier."</p> + +<p>"It is bad news?" said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur, and I was to say to you that you would do well to leave +Paris at the first opportunity. There is no place for an honest man +to-day in France. My master told me to say that."</p> + +<p>This news added to Barrington's feeling of impotence, and was +depressing. Had his days been full of active danger it would not have +had such an effect upon him. Naturally disposed to see the silver lining +of every cloud, he was unable to detect it now. Instead, his mind was +full of questions. Was Bruslart honest? Was he leaving no stone unturned +to release Mademoiselle St. Clair? Had Raymond Latour lied to him? Was +this week of waiting merely a pretext in order that he might have time +to render the prisoner's acquittal absolutely impossible?"</p> + +<p>"I'd trust this man Latour before I would Bruslart," Seth said, when +Barrington appealed to him, but in such a tone that he did not appear +really to trust either of them.</p> + +<p>"And at the end of this week what are we to do if mademoiselle is still +a prisoner?"</p> + +<p>"Master Richard, we're just men, ordinary men, and we cannot do the +impossible. We shall have done all that it is in our power to do, and a +ride toward the sea and a ship bound for Virginia would be the best +thing for us."</p> + +<p>"You would leave a defenseless woman in the hands of her enemies?" +Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me she must remain there whether we stay or go. I'm looking +at the matter as it is, and I see no opening for a romantic side to it," +Seth answered. "You cannot do battle with a whole city, that would mean +death and nothing accomplished; you cannot go to these ruffians and +demand her release, that would mean death, yours and hers, in the +shortest time possible. No, unless this man Latour keeps his word, I +see naught for us but a return to Virginia as quickly as may be."</p> + +<p>"You would never spend another night of sound sleep, Seth."</p> + +<p>"I should, Master Richard. I should just forget this time as though it +had never been, wipe the marks of it off the slate. He's a wise man who +does that with some of the episodes of his life."</p> + +<p>"I am a fool with a long memory," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Ay, but you will grow older, Master Richard; and life is less romantic +as we grow older."</p> + +<p>So from Seth there was not much consolation to be had, only sound common +sense, which was not altogether palatable just now as Barrington counted +the days. Latour had been very indefinite. He had said a week, and on +waking one morning Barrington's first thought was that the week ended +to-morrow. It was a proof of his trust in Latour, half unconscious +though such trust might be, that he had not expected to hear anything +until the week had passed. He judged Latour by himself.</p> + +<p>Seth went out in the morning as usual, looking as true and +uncompromising a patriot as any he was likely to encounter in the +street. He rather prided himself on the way he played his part, and wore +the tri-color cockade with an air of conviction. Grim of feature, he +looked like a man of blood, a disciple of rioting, and he had more than +once noticed that certain people who wished to pass unobserved shrank +from him, which pleased him greatly. Early in the afternoon he returned +hurriedly. It was so unlike him to come up the stairs hastily, two at a +time, that Barrington opened the door to meet him.</p> + +<p>"Shut it, Master Richard," he said, as he entered the room.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"The unexpected. Mademoiselle escaped from the Abbaye Prison last +night."</p> + +<p>"You are sure! You have seen Latour?"</p> + +<p>"Sure! The news is all over Paris. The mob is furious. There are cries +for a general massacre of prisoners, as happened a little while since, +so that no others may escape. There is talk of a house-to-house search, +and there are more ruffians in the streets to-day than I have seen at +all."</p> + +<p>"Is there any mention of Latour, any suspicion of him?"</p> + +<p>"I heard none, but they talk of—"</p> + +<p>"Bruslart!" ejaculated Barrington.</p> + +<p>"No, of a scurvy devil of a royalist who helped mademoiselle into +Paris."</p> + +<p>"Of me? By name?"</p> + +<p>"I did not hear your name spoken, but it is you they mean. They are +looking in every direction for mademoiselle, but they are keeping their +eyes open for you, too. There'll be some who will remember seeing you at +the barrier the other day. Yours is a figure not easily to be forgotten. +Keep within doors, Master Richard, until it is safe for us to sneak +away."</p> + +<p>"You know that is impossible."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle has escaped," said Seth. "It is now your turn to seek +safety."</p> + +<p>"With her escape my part commences," said Barrington, with a laugh that +had happiness in it. "It is for me to take her back to Beauvais or +elsewhere to safety."</p> + +<p>"It is madness to think of it," said Seth. "To be in your company would +increase her danger. Think of her, Master Richard, think of her. Your +lust for romantic adventure makes you selfish. For days to come you are +a marked man. In the streets, at any moment, you may be recognized. Even +in this quiet corner of the city you are hardly safe. They'll trap you +if they can and only a miracle can prevent them."</p> + +<p>"I have given a promise, Seth."</p> + +<p>"Break it, if not for your own sake, for the woman's. You risk bringing +her to ruin. I came back here to-day more cautiously than I have ever +done. One moment of carelessness and you are lost. If this man Latour +must be seen, let me go to him. No one is likely to recognize me. No one +turns to look after me as I pass. I am insignificant, of no account. Let +me go."</p> + +<p>"Seth, you have not told me everything," he said, suddenly. "There is +something you are keeping back. What is it?"</p> + +<p>Seth was by the window looking down into the quiet street as though he +expected to see danger enter it at any moment.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Barrington repeated.</p> + +<p>"I'd give half my remaining years if my conscience would bid me lie to +you," Seth answered, fiercely. "I've prayed, yes, I prayed as I hurried +through the streets that your mother's spirit might be allowed to +whisper to me and bid me deceive you."</p> + +<p>"Come, Seth, tell me everything," and Barrington let his hand fall +affectionately on the man's shoulder. "Could conscience persuade you to +barter half your years, it would be but a device of the devil to lead us +into greater difficulty."</p> + +<p>"I was recognized to-day. That swaggerer Sabatier touched me in the +street, and with a word of caution bid me walk beside him as though we +were boon companions. He was a messenger from Raymond Latour."</p> + +<p>"Yes, what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"He told me that mademoiselle had escaped, news I had heard already, and +he bid me tell you from Latour to go to-night, as soon as it began to +grow dusk, to the Rue Charonne, to a tavern there called the Chat Rouge. +You are to ask for the tavern keeper and say to him 'La vie est ici.' He +will understand and bring you to Latour and mademoiselle. Plans are laid +for your escape."</p> + +<p>"Is that all, Seth?"</p> + +<p>"And enough, surely. It comes from Sabatier, and we know something of +him. It is a trap baited too openly. You will not go, Master Richard."</p> + +<p>"Not go! Why, this is the very kind of message I have waited for, but I +did not expect it until to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And I go with you."</p> + +<p>Barrington was thoughtful for a moment.</p> + +<p>"No. We will exercise every caution. Should escape from Paris seem +possible at once, I can send for you or tell you when and where to join +me; if I walk into a trap, you will still be at liberty to work for my +freedom."</p> + +<p>Seth knew from past experience that all argument was useless, and +listened attentively to his master's instructions.</p> + +<p>"If you do not see me, or hear from me within three days, you must act +as you think best, Seth. Whatever my danger I shall have absolute +confidence in you. Mademoiselle once in safety, you shall have your +desire; we will ride toward the sea and a homeward-bound ship."</p> + +<p>Twilight was gathering over Paris when Richard Barrington left the house +of Monsieur Fargeau and went in the direction of the Rue Charonne. The +wine shops were full to overflowing; small crowds were at street +corners, filthy men and women ripe for any outrage. The names of +unpopular deputies were freely and loudly cursed; the most unlikely +revolutionists were openly accused of having sympathy with aristocrats. +Some ragged miscreant, whose only popularity rested on some recent +brutality, was declared capable of governing better than most of the +present deputies, and the mob was more out of hand than it had been for +weeks. At the call of some loud-mouthed patriot, or on the instigation +of some screaming virago, a small body of dancing, swearing patriots +would move away bent on mischief which would probably end in bloodshed. +A street, more or less tranquil the moment before, would suddenly become +a miniature battlefield, an opinion dividing patriots into factions +which began to fight savagely. Anything might happen to-night, another +prison might be stormed as the Bastille was, another tenth of August +insurrection, another horror equalling the September massacres, anything +was possible. Only a leader a little bolder than the rest was wanting, +and all attempt at law and order would be trampled to nothing in a +moment by a myriad of feet.</p> + +<p>Barrington proceeded carefully with watchful eyes, yet boldly enough not +to draw attention to himself. If a street was in possession of the mob +he avoided it, nor did he pass in the light which came from noisy wine +shops, but he did not make the mistake of avoiding those who approached +him. His route to the Rue Charonne was therefore a circuitous one, but +he came presently to a street which led directly into it, which seemed +quieter than many he had passed through, and he took it.</p> + +<p>He had traversed three-parts of its length in safety when from two side +streets crowds came simultaneously. To hurry might raise suspicion, to +turn back most certainly would; so Barrington kept on, not increasing +his pace, but with his eyes and ears keenly alive. His steady pace +exactly brought him into the midst of those who were at the heads of +these two crowds, and he was ready to receive and return any salutation +or coarse pleasantry which might be offered to him, when he found +himself carried in a rush to one side of the street. Between these two +crowds there was some quarrel, possibly no more than an hour old, and +men and women flew at one another in a fury. Being at the edge of the +fight Barrington had no great difficulty in extricating himself, and no +need to defend himself beyond an arm flung out to avoid the blow from a +stick. So fully were they engaged in their fight that they were unlikely +to take much notice of him, and he was congratulating himself on his +escape when one out of the many faces about him suddenly seemed to stand +out distinct from all the rest. Barrington did not know the face, had +never seen the man before that he was aware of, but it fascinated him. +He was obliged to stare back into the eyes fixed upon him, and knew +instinctively that he was in peril.</p> + +<p>"An aristocrat!"</p> + +<p>The exclamation burst out like the report of a pistol.</p> + +<p>"The American!"</p> + +<p>The noise of the fight sank in a kind of sob as the roar of a breaking +wave sinks with an angry swish back into silence; and as there is a +pause before the next wave is flung upward to break and roar, so was +there a pause now. Then came the yell of fury, faction quarrel +forgotten. They were all of one mind in a moment.</p> + +<p>"An aristocrat! The American! The American!"</p> + +<p>In the moment of pause Barrington had thrust aside a man who seemed to +bar his way, and had started to run. He was a score of yards to the +good; with fortune on his side he would turn into the Rue Charonne well +ahead of all but two of his pursuers; an open doorway, an alley, some +hiding-place might present itself. Escape was not probable, but there +was a chance, that bare chance which keeps the courage steady.</p> + +<center> +<img src='images/4.jpg' width='416' height='600' alt='Escape was not probable, but there was a chance.' title='Escape was not probable, but there was a chance.'> +</center> + +<p>As he rushed into the Rue Charonne, the yelling chorus behind him, a new +difficulty faced him. Just before him was the Chat Rouge, the one place +in all Paris that must not attract the attention of the mob to-night. An +archway was beside him and he turned into it.</p> + +<p>"The American! The American!"</p> + +<p>The bloodhounds were in the street. Would they miss this archway? It was +unlikely.</p> + +<p>"Quick!" said a voice in his ear as he was dragged back against the +wall. "There is straw below. Jump!"</p> + +<p>The crowd was rushing past the archway, but some stopped to examine it +as Barrington jumped down, falling on his hands and knees onto a bed of +straw.</p> + +<p>"The American!"</p> + +<p>"This way. He must have gone this way!"</p> + +<p>The babel of voices was loud for a moment, then something silenced it, +and there was the swift sound of a bolt shot home carefully.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>SETH IS CAUTIOUS</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>It was doubtful whether any man, woman or child, not even excepting +Richard Barrington himself, had any clear idea of Seth's character, or +the exact standpoint from which he viewed life and his fellows. On the +Virginian estate he had always led an isolated kind of existence, +happier apparently in his own company than any other. His devotion to +his mistress and her boy was known, and passed for one of his +peculiarities, had occasionally indeed been cast in his teeth as a +selfish device for winning favor. Barrington, as a boy, had made use of +him, as a man he had brought him to France knowing that he was to be +trusted, yet hardly realizing that Seth's trustworthiness was rooted in +love, such a love as men do not often receive. Since they had landed in +France, and danger had been as their very shadows, Richard had caught +glimpses of this love, but had understood it rather in terms of +comradeship than in any deeper sense, and had perhaps misinterpreted +Seth's keen desire to return forthwith to Virginia. Seth, in short, was +seldom able to express himself adequately, emotion scarcely ever sounded +in his voice, and the expression of his face was a fixed and +unchangeable one, somewhat dour and ill-tempered in aspect and +reflecting nothing of the man within.</p> + +<p>That his master had gone into imminent danger by keeping the +appointment at the Chat Rouge, Seth was convinced, yet for three days he +did nothing, nor did he plan anything in his mind. He had been told to +wait three days, and he waited, no look of anxiety in his eyes, no +suppressed agitation or desire for action apparent in his manner. He +went out and came in as though these days had no particular interest for +him, and ate and drank as a normal man with no care in his mind. +Precisely at the end of those three days, however, he began the labor +which he had fully expected to be obliged to do—the discovery of +Richard Barrington's whereabouts. Seth knew that the Marquis de +Lafayette had left Paris, or at least that his master had been told so, +but, being disposed to take nothing for granted, it was to Lafayette's +apartments that he went first.</p> + +<p>The servant who was still there did not remember him, and was not +inclined to give any information.</p> + +<p>"I don't expect to see the Marquis though I asked for him," Seth +answered. "I am Monsieur Barrington's man, and it was you no doubt who +delivered your master's message to him. Monsieur Barrington has gone."</p> + +<p>"I am glad. I know the Marquis was anxious that he should leave Paris."</p> + +<p>"By gone I mean that I don't know where he is," said Seth, "but I don't +think he has left Paris."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that he is arrested? I might get a message through to my +master who is with the army in the north."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that he is arrested. No, I think it would be better not to +send a message until I am certain. It is possible, although not +probable, that you may hear of my master; if you do will you let me +know?"</p> + +<p>"I will. You are still at the house of Monsieur Fargeau?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and shall remain there."</p> + +<p>Seth next went to find Lucien Bruslart. He had no intention of being +open with him. He had concocted an ambiguous message from his master, so +framed as to astonish Bruslart, whether he knew where Richard Barrington +was or not, and Seth hoped to read something of the truth in his face.</p> + +<p>Citizen Bruslart's apartment was closed, and the concierge knew nothing +about him. His servants had also gone.</p> + +<p>"Ah! like rats from a sinking ship, eh, citizen?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe. I'm no politician."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Seth, "until there's my own skin to keep whole, and then +I'll be politician enough to fight for it. It's not only the aristocrats +who are dangerous, citizen."</p> + +<p>"Why, that's true."</p> + +<p>"And if there's a wine shop handy we might drink confusion to all the +enemies of liberty," Seth returned.</p> + +<p>The porter was nothing loth, and was soon talking glibly enough.</p> + +<p>"I'm not to be deceived," he said, eying Seth curiously. "You are a man +with power, and Citizen Bruslart is wanted."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you may be no politician, but I see you are no fool," answered +Seth, with a swagger unnatural to him. "Men are brought out of the +provinces to work in Paris sometimes. Maybe that is why you do not know +me. There has been some good work done in the provinces and the +authorities begin to understand the value of the men who have done it. +Now Citizen Bruslart—"</p> + +<p>"I know only this," said the porter, confidentially. "He went out very +hurriedly one morning, and has not returned. His man followed and has +not returned either. I do not think Citizen Bruslart intends to come +back."</p> + +<p>"But they have not sent to arrest him," said Seth.</p> + +<p>"Not until you came, citizen," answered the porter, with a wink to show +how exceedingly knowing he was.</p> + +<p>"You're a smart man. I might presently find use for you."</p> + +<p>"I have done a little already, citizen. Two aristocrats have looked +through the little window with my help."</p> + +<p>"Good, very good. May you receive the reward you deserve," Seth +answered, rising as he finished his wine. "I shall hardly earn my pay if +I stay longer. You're of the kind I should like to reward, an excellent +double-faced man, Judas-like, betraying with a kiss. These are the men +who succeed to-day. I love them as I love hell and the guillotine."</p> + +<p>Even the porter was a little afraid of such a patriot, and was rather +glad to see the back of him as he swaggered away.</p> + +<p>Bruslart's disappearance was comprehensible. The escape of mademoiselle +would naturally draw suspicion upon him. Was Richard Barrington with +him?</p> + +<p>This was the first question Seth asked himself. It gave quick birth to +another. What part had Raymond Latour in the scheme?</p> + +<p>The set purpose in Seth's mind was apparent by the fact that he took the +most direct route to the Rue Valette. Twice at intervals of an hour he +knocked at Latour's door and received no answer, nor heard any sound +within. The third time the door was opened, and Latour faced him.</p> + +<p>"Your business, citizen."</p> + +<p>"I have something important to tell Citizen Latour," Seth answered.</p> + +<p>"I do not know you."</p> + +<p>"Does Citizen Latour know all his admirers?"</p> + +<p>"No, nor all his enemies," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Were I an enemy I do not think you would be afraid. As it happens I +want to be a friend."</p> + +<p>"Come in, then, and remember a deputy's time is not his own. You may be +from the provinces, citizen, and therefore I do not know you," said +Latour, as he closed and locked his door, and Seth noticed that he was +armed and prepared to use his pistol at a moment's notice.</p> + +<p>"From Louisiana originally, from Virginia recently with my master, +Richard Barrington."</p> + +<p>Latour remained standing by the door a moment, then moved to a chair by +the table, and sat down.</p> + +<p>"I am interested. What do you want with me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I want to know where my master is."</p> + +<p>Latour regarded him fixedly. If Seth expected to read this man's +thoughts in his face he was doomed to disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Surely you come to a strange person to make such an inquiry," said +Latour, slowly.</p> + +<p>"It will save time, monsieur, if I tell you at once that I am in my +master's confidence."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Then you should be able to give me most interesting information."</p> + +<p>"I think not, monsieur, nothing more than you know already. I am aware +that you and he planned to rescue Mademoiselle St. Clair, and that she +has escaped from the Abbaye Prison. I know that she is being looked for +in every corner of Paris, and that my master is suspected. It was to me +that Jacques Sabatier gave your message bidding my master go to the Chat +Rouge tavern in the Rue Charonne."</p> + +<p>"You must be a faithful servant for your master."</p> + +<p>"I am more, a man who loves him."</p> + +<p>"Even so I doubt whether such confidence is wise," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"Wise or not, it happens to serve a useful purpose on this occasion," +Seth returned. "If he did not return, my master told me to take what +steps I thought fit, after waiting three days. You will know, monsieur, +that I have waited three days."</p> + +<p>"So your first idea is to apply to me. It was natural."</p> + +<p>"You think so, without taking any precaution?"</p> + +<p>"Precaution! I do not follow you."</p> + +<p>"It is easy," said Seth, a sudden inspiration coming to him, perhaps +because he was convinced that this man was bent on baffling inquiry. "To +come here was to put myself in your power. Monsieur Barrington has +trusted you, but I should be a fool to trust you without reason; indeed, +I have reason to distrust you since my master is missing. You could +easily have given word that he would be at the Chat Rouge at a certain +hour, and the doors of a Paris prison would close on him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that could have been done," said Latour, "and, faithful servant +though you be, I fail to see what counter stroke you could have made."</p> + +<p>"No? It seems obvious to me. Play the life of Deputy Latour against the +life of Richard Barrington. There would speedily be a yelling crowd on +the stairs if I denounced you as the man who had rescued Mademoiselle +St. Clair."</p> + +<p>Seth looked for some change of expression in his companion's face, but +it did not come. Fear never caught at this man's heart.</p> + +<p>"I think there would," said Latour, "if you could make the crowd believe +it."</p> + +<p>"You can make the mob believe anything at the present moment."</p> + +<p>"You may be right. I do not study the mob much. There is one point, +however, which you overlook," said Latour, quietly. "I might take steps +to prevent your telling the mob."</p> + +<p>"That is exactly the danger against which I have taken precaution," Seth +answered. "You are not the first person to whom I have applied."</p> + +<p>Latour was fully alive to the danger which such a precaution implied. A +casual word had power in it to ruin him, yet he gave no sign of being +disturbed, and Seth appreciated to some extent the kind of man he had to +deal with.</p> + +<p>"You see, monsieur, there are those who would not wait three days if I +did not return from my visit to you," he said.</p> + +<p>Latour nodded as though the position were quite an ordinary one, as +though he had been aware of it from the first.</p> + +<p>"I hope your caution, which I quite understand, but which was +unnecessary, is not likely to injure your master."</p> + +<p>"I have been very careful," said Seth.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear it. At present Monsieur Barrington is safe."</p> + +<p>"Then you can take me to him."</p> + +<p>"For the moment that is exactly what I cannot do," Latour answered. "In +one sense Monsieur Barrington's danger and mine are the same, but in +another way his is greater than mine, at present. The mob does not +suspect me; it does suspect your master. I can add to your knowledge a +little. As he went to the Chat Rouge that night he was recognized and +had to run for his life. Through Jacques Sabatier, whom you know, I was +instrumental in saving him, but for some little time he will have to lie +very closely. Were you or I to be seen near his hiding-place it would +only be to betray him."</p> + +<p>"I only have your word for this," said Seth.</p> + +<p>"And it is not enough?" said Latour, with a smile. "I consider myself a +judge of character, and I am not surprised. There is a way out of the +difficulty. Will you be satisfied if your master sends you a letter +telling you to await his further instructions patiently?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have means of knowing that such a letter could not be forged."</p> + +<p>"You shall have the letter to-morrow morning. Where shall I send it?"</p> + +<p>"I will come here for it," Seth answered.</p> + +<p>"An excellent idea. You will be able to tell me at once whether you are +satisfied," said Latour, rising and going to the door, which he threw +open with a bow. "The lion's den is not so dangerous a place as you +imagined."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I shall think well of you until to-morrow," said Seth.</p> + +<p>"And afterward, I hope," Latour returned.</p> + +<p>The smile faded from Latour's face as he went back into his room, and +an expression of perplexity took its place. This was a new and +unexpected danger. Probably he was honest, but it was hardly likely that +Barrington had told the whole truth to his servant. After a little while +spent in thought and calculation, Latour went upstairs to the rooms +above his own. He knocked at the door, then turned the key and entered.</p> + +<p>Pauline Vaison showed no pleasure at the visit, but there was +unmistakable relief. It was quite evident that she half expected a worse +enemy.</p> + +<p>"Have you come to release me, citizen?" she asked, doing her utmost to +appear indifferent.</p> + +<p>"You are only a prisoner for your own safety."</p> + +<p>"You have already said so, but I cannot understand of what importance I +am to the State."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I was a little rough with you when you were first brought +here," said Latour. "I believed you were a party to a plot, to defeat +which you were smuggled out of the Abbaye Prison. You told me a story +which, frankly, I did not believe, but from further knowledge I am +inclined to alter my opinion. Your story was this, correct me if I am +wrong in any detail: You went one morning to visit Citizen Bruslart, he +was out and you waited for him, you have done the same before. The house +was suddenly invaded and you were arrested as an aristocrat, one +Mademoiselle Jeanne St. Clair. You protested, but you were not believed. +Is that so?"</p> + +<p>"I was laughed at and insulted," said Pauline.</p> + +<p>"Citizen Bruslart is a friend of yours?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard that he was to marry Jeanne St. Clair?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever he once intended, I have the best reason for knowing that he +has changed his mind. Lucien Bruslart is to marry me."</p> + +<p>Latour showed no surprise. "Have you ever seen this Jeanne St. Clair?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"You were not voluntarily there that day in her place, so that she might +escape?"</p> + +<p>"No. I am a patriot and hate all aristocrats. I am woman enough to hate +this one particularly since Lucien once cared for her."</p> + +<p>"When one's life is at stake, it is easy to lie if a lie will be useful, +but I believe you, citizeness," said Latour. "I wish to be your friend, +that kind of friend who is honest even if honesty gives pain. First, +then, it is absolutely necessary that you remain here in hiding for a +little while. The mob which carried you to prison knows you have +escaped. You are being hunted for. So beautiful a woman cannot pass +unnoticed. You would be recognized, and since you are still believed to +be Mademoiselle St. Clair, I doubt not the nearest lantern would be your +destination."</p> + +<p>Pauline turned pale. "But, citizen—"</p> + +<p>"Believe me, you are perfectly safe here," said Latour. "In a few days +the people will know that they made a mistake, and you will be a +heroine."</p> + +<p>"I will stay here," she said. "You are sure the woman who brings my food +and looks after these rooms will not betray me?"</p> + +<p>"I am certain of that. She believes you are very dear to me, and she is +mine body and soul. Now I come to the second point. It is known that +this aristocrat is, or was, in Paris. It is certain that Lucien Bruslart +knew this; it is almost certain that he has found her a safe +hiding-place. That makes you angry, but there is something more. He knew +that Jeanne St. Clair was supposed to have been arrested in his +apartment, knew that a mistake had been made, but he has taken no steps +to put that mistake right. Is it not possible, even probable, that he +knows you were arrested in her place, and that it has suited his plans +to remain silent?"</p> + +<p>Pauline sprang from her chair, her eyes blazing, her little hands +clinched, her whole frame vibrating with the lust for revenge.</p> + +<p>"If I thought—"</p> + +<p>"Citizeness, I am your friend," said Latour. "We will find out. At +present, Lucien Bruslart is not to be found. For three days, ever since +your escape, mark you, he has not been near his apartment."</p> + +<p>"You shall help me," said Pauline, savagely. "I will not yet believe him +false, but if he is, he shall pay for it. I should laugh to see his neck +under the knife."</p> + +<p>"You let me into a secret, citizeness, the greatness of your love."</p> + +<p>"Great love like mine means hatred if it is scorned," she said; and then +she added quickly, "But he may have got safely away from Paris."</p> + +<p>There was in her attitude that sudden savagery which a cat shows at the +prospect of being robbed of its prey.</p> + +<p>"He has not left Paris," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"Even if he had, I should find him," she said.</p> + +<p>Latour left her and returned to his own rooms.</p> + +<p>"This woman will find him, once she is let loose," he muttered. "I can +almost pity Citizen Bruslart, thrice damned villain that he is. And +Barrington? I must see Barrington."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>DR. LEGRAND'S ASYLUM</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The Rue Charonne was a long street extending toward the outer limits of +the city, and while at one end, near the Chat Rouge Tavern, it was a +busy thoroughfare with crowded Streets on either side of it, at the +other end it was quiet, and almost deserted in the evenings. The houses +were less closely packed, and there were walls which trees overhung, +telling of pleasant and shady gardens.</p> + +<p>Behind such a wall the passer-by had a glimpse of the upper windows and +steep roof of a house of considerable size. On one side of it stretched +a garden, on the other some outbuildings joined it to another house +which had nothing to do with it, but was one of a block of rather old +houses which faced the street.</p> + +<p>This house, in its pleasant garden, was, as every one knew, a private +asylum and sanatorium conducted by Dr. Legrand. He had come there half a +dozen years ago, and for some time there had been only a few inmates, +not dangerously insane, but unfit to be at large, and two or three +others who had retired into this retreat to end their days in peace. In +the last few months, however, the number of residents had vastly +increased. Certainly every room in the house must be occupied, the +larger rooms probably divided into two or three, the neighbors argued, +and most of the inmates did not appear to be insane. It was not a time +to busy one's self about other people's affairs, it was much safer +neither to gossip nor to listen to gossip; so to many persons the riddle +of Monsieur Legrand's sudden prosperity remained unsolved.</p> + +<p>Yet many people understood the riddle, and were not slow to profit by +it. This house, although one of the best known, was not the only one of +its kind to be found in Paris. Legrand was a man of business as well as +a doctor, a better man of business than he was a doctor, and perceived, +almost by a stroke of genius, how he might profit by the Revolution. To +many a revolutionary leader gold was better than the head of an +aristocrat, although by that curious twist of conscience which men can +so easily contrive for themselves, direct bribery was not to be thought +of. Dr. Legrand seemed to thoroughly understand this twisted and +diseased conscience, and had a remedy to offer. What persuasion he used, +what proportion of his exorbitant fees found its way into other pockets, +cannot be said, it was a secret he locked up in his own soul, but it +soon became known that aristocrats, fortunate enough to be prisoners in +this house in the Rue Charonne, were safe so long as the fees were paid.</p> + +<p>The agents of the Public Prosecutor never came there for food for the +guillotine. If the fees were not paid, it invariably meant that some ill +turn of fortune, which Legrand was quite unable to explain, necessitated +the speedy removal of the delinquent to the Abbaye, to Sainte Pélagie, +or one of the other prisons where their days were almost certain to be +few.</p> + +<p>A round-faced man, with generosity beaming in his eyes, was Dr. Legrand. +His prisoners, or guests as he preferred to call them, were free to +roam the house or the grounds at their will; if the table he kept was +not liberal, a certain etiquette was indulged in which did something to +cover the parsimony, and the insane inmates who remained in the house +were pushed out of the way into odd corners as much as possible.</p> + +<p>Into the doctor's study one morning there had come a man and a woman.</p> + +<p>"I have come as arranged," said the man. "This is the lady."</p> + +<p>Legrand bowed low, and appeared to overflow with benevolence.</p> + +<p>"I am happy to welcome such a guest," he said. "There are certain +formalities, and then you are as safe, mademoiselle, as you could be at +Beauvais."</p> + +<p>So it was that Mademoiselle St. Clair came to be a guest at the house in +the Rue Charonne, brought there for safety by Lucien Bruslart. She had +been there a week when, not far away, Richard Barrington had been +obliged to run for his life, and with the help of a man, whose identity +the dark entry concealed, had jumped into safety. Of this she knew +nothing; she was as ignorant of what was passing in the city as though +hundreds of miles separated her from it. Lucien had found her a safe +retreat, and the time was not so heavy on her hands as she had expected. +Although she chanced upon no intimate friends in Dr. Legrand's house, +she met several acquaintances, men and women she had known something of +before the flight to Beauvais. They had much to talk of in the day, and +in the evenings they sang and danced. If care was heavy upon some of +them, smiling faces were made to mask the fact. Saturday was a day of +apprehension, a day of which the ending was greeted with a sigh of +relief. It was the day for paying fees. Some the inmates paid their own, +their purses refilled by friends who were free; the fees of many were +paid direct to the doctor by their friends. This was the arrangement in +Mademoiselle St. Clair's case. Lucien had told her that it would be the +most satisfactory way, and she had given him power to draw on her money +for the purpose. He had a special agreement with Legrand, he said, for +Jeanne was there on a different footing from the other guests. He hinted +too that Legrand was under such obligations to him that any favor he +asked was practically a command. It was not until the second Saturday +had passed that Jeanne understood all that the payment of these fees +meant. At the table that night there were two empty places, a man's and +a woman's. She asked her neighbor, an elderly Abbé, who had lived well +all his life until he came to the Rue Charonne and was forever grumbling +at the extortion practiced, what had become of them.</p> + +<p>"Removed to another prison, mademoiselle. I did not hear which."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"They could not afford to remain here. They are not the first I have +seen made bankrupt by Legrand."</p> + +<p>"Ah! this hateful revolution!"</p> + +<p>"It will end, mademoiselle. Already the dogs begin to tear one another, +and when that happens, the quarry escapes."</p> + +<p>"It will end, yes; but when? How long?"</p> + +<p>"Before our purses run dry, I trust, mademoiselle," answered the Abbé, +with a smile.</p> + +<p>Jeanne had no fear for her own safety, but great compassion for others. +She began to hate the smiling face of Dr. Legrand. She heard something +of the enormous sums he charged, and wondered what Lucien was paying for +her, and how long he would have to pay it. He had said that at least a +month must elapse before it would be safe to make an attempt to leave +Paris. Unfortunately, he had to think of his own safety as well as hers. +Poor Lucien! She had braved Paris to help him, and her presence in the +city had only added to his difficulty and danger. What was he doing day +by day to end it all? Was Monsieur Barrington helping him? Lucien would +be foolish not to accept the help of such a man, so brave, so full of +resource, so——</p> + +<p>These thoughts concerning Richard Barrington made Jeanne start a little. +She was suddenly conscious that she was comparing the two men, and that +one seemed to take hold of her, hurry her along, as it were, and absorb +her attention, until she could only bring her thoughts back to the other +with an effort. Barrington stood out clear and distinct, definite in +word and action, knowing what he intended to do and doing it without +thinking of failure; Lucien was a shadow in comparison, indistinct, +waiting rather than acting. Barrington would have made an attempt to get +her out of Paris before this, and Jeanne was convinced that she would +have gone without fear. If the enterprise had failed, it would have been +a splendid failure. Lucien had not made the attempt. She did not blame +him, his nature was to exercise greater caution, and when he did move, +perhaps the chances of success would be greater; yet she knew that with +Lucien she would feel greater responsibility, feel that she was obliged +to protect him almost as much as he protected her. Lucien would ask her +advice and be guided by it; Barrington would tell her what to do and be +angry if she did not obey at once.</p> + +<p>"It is my love which makes the difference," she told herself. "A woman +must exercise protection over the man she loves. In the love of all good +women there is the mother instinct. That is the reason why I feel like +this toward Lucien." And then she thought of how she had passed the +barrier with Barrington and his servant Seth. It seemed a mad scheme, +yet it had succeeded. And Lucien had asked her whether this man was to +be trusted!</p> + +<p>So the days passed, much dreaming in them for want of other employment. +It was sometimes too cold and wet to walk much in the garden, and the +sense of confinement within high walls was depressing. Not always could +cards or music dispel the anxiety which these guests had to endure, and +Jeanne, with all her bravery, had hard work to keep her tears back at +times. She had been at the house in the Rue Charonne a month when Marie, +a maid of all work in the establishment, came to her one morning, a +frightened look in her face and evidences of tears in her eyes. Marie +was generally assumed to be of rather weak intellect, chiefly perhaps +because she made no complaint against the drudgery of her life, and +because, unlike the other servants, she did not copy the rapacity of the +master and extort fees at every opportunity. She was especially attached +to Mademoiselle St. Clair, who had in times past befriended her aged +mother, and she had endeavored to repay the debt by special devotion to +her, and, when they chanced to be alone, by a loquacity which was +intended to be encouraging. Her present doleful appearance was therefore +the more surprising.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Marie?" Jeanne asked.</p> + +<p>"The doctor wants to see you in his study."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't thinking of your message, but of your appearance. You have +been crying."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the reason," Marie answered. "The master wants to see you, +and it's Saturday morning."</p> + +<p>Jeanne had forgotten the day, and the information, coupled with the +message, startled her for a moment.</p> + +<p>"There is no need to be afraid, Marie," she said quietly.</p> + +<p>"I know you're brave, you couldn't be anything else," returned the girl, +"but I know what Saturday morning in that study means. Mademoiselle, +I'll do anything I can. No one takes any notice of me. I can slip out of +the house almost any time I like."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Marie. I will not forget."</p> + +<p>In spite of the servant girl's pessimistic view, Jeanne had little +apprehension as she went to the doctor's study, and Legrand's method of +receiving her was reassuring. He rose, bowed low and placed a chair for +her. He spoke of the pleasant crispness in the air, of the little dance +which had taken place in the salon on the previous night.</p> + +<p>"Even the Abbé was persuaded to a few steps," he laughed. "It was very +amusing."</p> + +<p>"I am waiting to hear the business which necessitates my presence here," +said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"Ah, mademoiselle, it is a painful matter; it pains me. There is no +remittance from Monsieur Bruslart this week. It has always come on +Friday night, but this is Saturday morning and it is still not here."</p> + +<p>Jeanne did not answer for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Of course there is some mistake," she said.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said Legrand. "It did not trouble me much last night, +but this morning—mademoiselle, I was so surprised that I called on +Monsieur Bruslart this morning. He has left Paris."</p> + +<p>"Gone!"</p> + +<p>"Leaving no word behind him, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"It is more likely that he has been arrested," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"I have inquired. He has not been arrested, but he would have been had +he remained."</p> + +<p>"Are you suggesting that he has run away without a thought for me?"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, the most prominent members of my profession have little +knowledge of men's thoughts. Of the working of Monsieur Bruslart's mind +I know nothing; I only know that he has left Paris without sending +money."</p> + +<p>"And the consequence to me?" asked Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"That is what pains me," Legrand answered. "This house is secure only on +certain conditions, a peculiar arrangement in which I have personally +little influence. Some of my guests are ungracious enough to disbelieve +this. When the fees remain unpaid I have no choice in the matter. My +guest is removed elsewhere."</p> + +<p>Jeanne showed not a trace of nervousness or alarm. The whirl of thoughts +and doubts in her brain caused the lines in her face to harden a little, +but there was no quiver in her eyes, no tremble in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Is the money paid in advance?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Always, mademoiselle; that is one of the conditions."</p> + +<p>"Then it is for the coming week that the money is due?"</p> + +<p>"That is so."</p> + +<p>"I do not know, Dr. Legrand, whether you are fully aware of Monsieur +Bruslart's position and my own?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, mademoiselle. You were, I believe, to be man and wife."</p> + +<p>His suggestion that such a thing was now impossible was not lost upon +Jeanne and was a little startling. Did he believe that Lucien Bruslart +was a scoundrel?</p> + +<p>"Do you know that the fees paid to you by Lucien Bruslart are paid out +of my money?"</p> + +<p>"Officially I only know that they are paid by a certain person, and I +ask no questions. Having some knowledge of Monsieur Bruslart's position, +I have imagined that the necessary money was supplied by you."</p> + +<p>"I have only to authorize the banker who has funds of mine in hand to +pay the amount."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I naturally thought of that. All that was necessary was a +form for your signature, so I called upon the banker. I regret to tell +you that he has no longer any funds of yours in hand. The whole amount +has been withdrawn."</p> + +<p>"By whom?"</p> + +<p>Legrand shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I do not know. If you wish me to make a guess, I should say by Lucien +Bruslart. You will know whether he had any document in his possession +giving him such power."</p> + +<p>Jeanne knew that he had. She had trusted him fully. Even now she did not +jump to the hasty conclusion that he had betrayed that trust. There +might be a dozen good reasons why he had withdrawn the money; to save it +from being misappropriated by the State consequent on the banker's +possible arrest, or to spend carefully in arranging her escape. It was +probably an accident that the messenger had not arrived with the money +this week, and in preparation for escape it was quite likely that Lucien +might let it be understood that he had left Paris. He would not be +likely to confide in Monsieur Legrand. He would certainly not desert +her.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me the amount due for next week?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The doctor took a paper from a drawer and handed it to her. She uttered +a sudden exclamation as she saw the amount.</p> + +<p>"It is out of all reason," she said.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, the security offered by this house may be said to be out +of all reason too."</p> + +<p>"If this is paid, I remain a guest for another week?"</p> + +<p>"Until next Saturday."</p> + +<p>Jeanne took her purse and counted out the money. She had little left +when it was done.</p> + +<p>"Count it, Dr. Legrand, and give me the receipt."</p> + +<p>His eyes beamed as he counted and found the sum correct.</p> + +<p>"I am happy again," he said. "So much may happen in a week. I assure +you, mademoiselle, your ability to pay lifts years from my shoulders."</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur, I have bought a long respite," Jeanne said, rising as +she took the receipt. "I doubt not much will happen in a week."</p> + +<p>As she went out and closed the door, Legrand placed the money in a +drawer which he locked.</p> + +<p>"It was a warning," he muttered, "and she has robbed me of seeming +generous by promising to give her a week free of cost. She must have +touched me in some way, or I should never have thought of giving her +such a warning. It was a fortunate idea. Had I left it until next +Saturday she would have been able to pay for another week, and I should +have been obliged to hunt for a pretext for refusing her money. She must +be removed elsewhere next Saturday. My little consideration, my wish to +prepare her, has turned out well; besides, I have received double fees +for this coming week. I cannot complain."</p> + +<p>Alone in her own room, Jeanne nearly broke down. The strain of the +interview and all that it implied left her with little strength to fight +the despair that settled upon her. Yet she held back the tears that +threatened, and fought back the disposition to fling herself upon the +mean little bed and give way to her grief. A week! Only a week! She had +bought it at an enormous price and every hour in it was of immense +value. If Lucien Bruslart were a traitor, she had still one friend in +Paris. She was as sure of this as of the emblematic meaning of the small +crucifix which she had hung above her bed. She must act. There was no +time to give way to despair.</p> + +<p>On scraps of paper she wrote a long letter, telling the whole history of +the house in the Rue Charonne, how she came to be there, and the peril +she was in. She sealed it, and then waited until she could get Marie +alone.</p> + +<p>"Marie, you promised to help me."</p> + +<p>"I meant it. What can I do, mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>Jeanne gave the girl minute instructions for finding the house in which +the Marquis de Lafayette had his apartment, and Marie showed little sign +of weak-mindedness as she listened.</p> + +<p>"I know the house, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Go there, say you come from me and ask to see him. Give him this letter +and ask him to see that it is safely delivered."</p> + +<p>"And if he is away, mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"Then ask his servant to tell you where the man to whom this letter is +addressed lives."</p> + +<p>"And if he does not know?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Marie, I cannot tell what you are to do then. Take the letter, hide +it away. Heaven grant it reaches its destination."</p> + +<p>Marie stood with the letter in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Who's it to? I cannot read, mademoiselle, but if I know the name, I may +find him even if the servant doesn't know."</p> + +<p>"It is addressed to Monsieur Richard Barrington," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>The girl put the letter into her pocket, and patted her dress to +emphasize the security of the hiding-place.</p> + +<p>"I'll go to-morrow. I have a holiday all day; that gives me plenty of +time to find the man who loves mademoiselle. Richard Barrington; I shall +not forget the name."</p> + +<p>"Not my lover, Marie."</p> + +<p>"Ah, mademoiselle, why pretend with me? Yours is not the first secret I +have kept."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX'></a><h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>CITIZEN SABATIER TURNS TRAITOR</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The Rue Charonne in the neighborhood of the Chat Rouge was a busy +street. Its importance as a business quarter had been on the increase +for some years, yet in the adjoining back streets extreme poverty +existed and there were warrens of iniquity into which the law had feared +to penetrate too deeply. It was an old part of the city, too, built on +land once belonging to a monastery whose memory was still kept alive by +the names of mean streets and alleys into which byways respectable +citizens did not go. There were stories current of men who had ventured +and had never come forth again. With some of the inhabitants, it was +asserted, the attainment of an almost worthless trinket, or a single +coin, or even a garment, was considered cheap as the price of murder; +and so intricate were the streets, so honeycombed with secret +hiding-places known only to the initiated, that attempts to enforce +justice had almost invariably ended in failure. Naturally this squalid +neighborhood materially swelled the yelling crowds who, in the name of +patriotism, openly defied all law and order, and made outrage and murder +a national duty as they drank, and danced, and sang the "Ca-ira," +flaunting their rags, sometimes even their nakedness.</p> + +<p>Into the midst of such a crowd Richard Barrington had walked as he went +to the Chat Rouge; as bloodthirsty a mob as he could possibly have +encountered in all Paris, and the Rue Charonne had been turned into +Pandemonium when it was realized that the quarry had escaped. Houses +were forcibly entered, men and women insulted and ill-used, the Chat +Rouge was invaded and searched, the landlord barely escaping with his +life. The opportunity to drink without cost presently kept the mob busy, +however, and as the liquor took effect the work of searching was +abandoned for the night, but the next morning the crowd came together +again, and for days it was unsafe to go abroad in the Rue Charonne.</p> + +<p>Of this quarter was Citizen Jacques Sabatier, never so criminal as many +of his fellows, perhaps, yet a dangerous man. He might pass along these +streets in safety, and since he had become a man of some importance, had +influence with this mob. Through him Raymond Latour could count upon the +support of those who dwelt in the purlieus of the Rue Charonne, but both +he and his henchman knew perfectly well that there were times when any +attempt to exert such influence would be useless. Sabatier, waiting by +the Chat Rouge, had heard the sudden cry, "An aristocrat! The American!" +yet he dared not have interfered openly to save Barrington. Had the +fugitive not turned suddenly into the archway where Sabatier waited, it +is certain that Sabatier would not have gone out to rescue him. The +chance to help him at little risk had offered itself, and he had taken +it.</p> + +<p>As Richard Barrington rose to his feet in the straw, he was in pitch +darkness, but not alone. There was a quick movement beside him, and then +a voice whispering in his ear:</p> + +<p>"A narrow escape. Give me your hand; I will lead you into a place of +greater safety."</p> + +<p>Barrington had no idea who his deliverer was, but he thanked him and +took his hand. He was led along evil-smelling passages into which no ray +of light penetrated, but which were evidently familiar to his guide. +There were turnings, now to right, now to left, an opening and shutting +of doors, and finally entrance into a wider space where the air was +comparatively fresh.</p> + +<p>"One moment and I will get a light."</p> + +<p>The dim light from the lantern revealed a small chamber, square and +built of stone, the work of a past age. A barred grating high up in the +wall let in air, and possibly light in the daytime. A common chair and +table standing in the center, a bowl with a water can beside it in one +corner, and a heap of straw in another comprised the furniture. These +things Barrington noticed at once, and then recognized that the man who +set the lantern on the table was Jacques Sabatier.</p> + +<p>"A prison," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"A place of refuge, citizen," was the answer. "Were you not here, you +would be decorating a lantern by this time."</p> + +<p>"We meet in Paris under strange circumstances," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Still we do meet. Did I not say at Trémont that every true patriot must +sooner or later meet Jacques Sabatier in Paris, though for that matter I +expected it to be in a wine shop and not here, underground."</p> + +<p>"Where are we?"</p> + +<p>"In a cell of the old monastery which once stood hard by the Rue +Charonne, which has served as a cellar at some time, but now for a long +while has been forgotten. Citizen Latour would have been here with +mademoiselle to meet you, but the mob in the neighborhood will keep them +away to-night. You must wait here, monsieur, it may be for some days."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle is safe?"</p> + +<p>"Quite safe in the care of Deputy Latour. I had the honor of helping him +to bring her out of the Abbaye prison."</p> + +<p>"And what are Citizen Latour's plans for getting her out of Paris?"</p> + +<p>"He is making them, but they change from day to day as the circumstances +change. At the first opportunity he will come to you."</p> + +<p>"I must wait with what patience I can," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"And remain as quiet as you can," said Sabatier. "The crowd will be +hunting for you for some time, and a noise might attract them."</p> + +<p>"I shall not court death; I have a good deal to live for," said +Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Then, monsieur, I will leave you. Citizen Latour will be distressed +until he knows you are safe."</p> + +<p>Richard Barrington's patience was destined to be sufficiently tried. It +was a poor, miserable caricature of daylight which found its way through +the barred grating, and for three days Sabatier visited him every +morning with the same news that the crowds parading the Rue Charonne +made it impossible for Latour to come.</p> + +<p>"Is it necessary to lock me in?" Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>"It is not to prevent your going out, monsieur, but to insure that your +enemies do not come in."</p> + +<p>"I feel like a prisoner."</p> + +<p>"Better that than falling into the hands of the mob."</p> + +<p>On the fourth day Sabatier brought a message from Latour. Barrington's +servant Seth had been to him inquiring about his master. Naturally, +perhaps, he was not inclined to believe Latour's word that he was safe, +and unless he had some definite proof might ruin everything by making +inquiries in other directions.</p> + +<p>"Will you write a letter to your servant, monsieur, telling him to wait +until he has further instructions from you?"</p> + +<p>"Might he not come to me here?"</p> + +<p>"For the present that would be too dangerous," Sabatier answered. "I +come and go, monsieur, because I was bred in this quarter of the city. +The mob claims me as a part of it, and truly I am, except in this +business. I began by simply obeying Citizen Latour, for my own benefit, +I make no secret of it; now I am also interested in Monsieur +Barrington."</p> + +<p>The letter to Seth was written and given to Sabatier to deliver. Two +more weary days of waiting passed, and then late one afternoon Raymond +Latour came.</p> + +<p>Barrington welcomed him, both hands held out to him.</p> + +<p>"It was bravely done," he exclaimed. "You must have run great risk in +getting her from the Abbaye prison."</p> + +<p>"Yes, great risk. I have come to talk to you about it."</p> + +<p>Latour ignored the outstretched hands. He stood in front of Barrington +with folded arms. There was something amiss.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>"The usual thing when an honest man trusts a liar; the honest man has +been deceived."</p> + +<p>"You speak of—"</p> + +<p>"Of one Richard Barrington, a liar I was fool enough to trust. Oh, this +is no time for fighting," Latour went on quickly, as sudden anger +stiffened Barrington's figure, and gave a dangerous fire to his eyes. +"You will be wise to hear me out. This was a place of safety, it is a +prison, and a word from me will send you to the guillotine as surely as +we are standing face to face at this moment."</p> + +<p>"First prove me a liar; afterward threaten me if you will," Barrington +returned.</p> + +<p>Latour regarded him in silence for a few moments and then said slowly:</p> + +<p>"Tell me, where is Jeanne St. Clair?"</p> + +<p>"Jeanne! She has gone?" cried Barrington. "Sabatier said she was with +you, that she—"</p> + +<p>"It is well done, monsieur; I am no longer a fool or I might be +convinced, might still be deceived."</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake, man, tell me what you mean," and Barrington spoke +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"If it pleases you to keep up the deception, let me put facts plainly," +said Latour. "You admit the risk I ran in securing an escape from the +Abbaye Prison; you know that the risk was run to no purpose. It was well +planned, it was successful, but the woman rescued was not Mademoiselle +St. Clair."</p> + +<p>"You made a mistake?"</p> + +<p>"There was no mistake. The woman was Pauline Vaison, a woman Lucien +Bruslart has promised to marry. The mob found her in his apartment, took +her for the aristocrat, and carried her to prison in the place of +mademoiselle. You are Bruslart's friend and accomplice. I ask you again, +where is Jeanne St. Clair?"</p> + +<p>It never occurred to Richard Barrington that Latour might be deceiving +him, and for the moment he had no thought how he could best convince +Latour that he was innocent of any deception. He was utterly overwhelmed +by the news. Deep down in his heart he had never really trusted Lucien +Bruslart, and all this time Jeanne had been in his hands. Bruslart then +had lied from the first, had imposed upon him his feigned grief, and all +the time he had been perfecting some foul plot. What had become of +Jeanne? The horrible possibilities unnerved him, took the heart out of +him. He was as a man who when brought face to face with peril is afraid, +who shrinks back and would fly if he could. Latour knew nothing of the +thoughts rushing through Barrington's brain, he only saw a man with the +courage suddenly gone out of him; he put his own construction upon his +manner and laughed.</p> + +<p>"It is always unpleasant when the time comes to pay for such deceit," he +said.</p> + +<p>"I swear to you"</p> + +<p>"Spare yourself. I have asked you a question. I want it answered."</p> + +<p>"I don't know where she is. I wish to Heaven I did."</p> + +<p>"It suits my purpose to give you time to think better of your answer," +said Latour. "You shall even buy your miserable life by telling the +truth. When you tell me where Mademoiselle St. Clair is, you shall leave +this prison, not before. I will even do something to get you safely out +of Paris and to the seacoast."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I do not know. Find Bruslart, ask him."</p> + +<p>"I have you safe, that is enough; and I would advise you to come to my +terms quickly. There is no escape except through me. Your letter has +silenced your servant, and his patience is likely to outlast mine. Tell +the truth quickly, Monsieur Barrington; it will be safer."</p> + +<p>Latour turned to the door, but Barrington sprang toward him and caught +him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Are you mad? Think of her; she is in Bruslart's hands."</p> + +<p>Latour wrenched himself free, and as he turned sharply there was a +pistol in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Stand where you are! I would shoot you like a dog rather than let you +escape."</p> + +<p>"The devil take you for a fool!" exclaimed Barrington. "I thought I had +a man to deal with!" and he turned his back upon Latour, who went out of +the room, locking the door after him.</p> + +<p>Barrington's anger was quickly absorbed in the realization of the utter +hopelessness of his position. Latour had trapped him. When he sent him +the appointment to come to the Chat Rouge, he must have known what he +had told him to-day; he had deliberately said nothing until after Seth's +anxiety had been quieted; and his jailer, Jacques Sabatier, was a party +to the deceit. Latour had it firmly fixed in his mind that he was in +league with Bruslart, and it seemed that nothing short of a miracle +would drive this idea out of his mind. Barrington could conceive no way +in which he could convince him, and the thought that all this while +Jeanne was in peril almost drove him mad. Could he escape? For the first +time since he had entered it he examined his stone cellar carefully. It +was a very grave for security.</p> + +<p>When Sabatier visited him next morning, his manner gave Barrington an +idea. Sabatier entered more carefully than he was wont to do, his hand +upon a pistol thrust into his tri-color sash. It was evident he feared +attack. His greeting was friendly, however; he showed a keen interest in +the prisoner, and gave him odds and ends of news which were of little +importance.</p> + +<p>"Any message for Citizen Latour?" he asked as he was leaving.</p> + +<p>"Tell him he is a fool."</p> + +<p>Why should Barrington not attack and overpower his jailer? It might be +useless, perhaps others were watching in the passage without, ready to +rush in at the slightest sound; still, it would be something attempted. +He had succeeded in silencing the man at the Lion d'Or that night, why +should he not succeed again?</p> + +<p>The next morning Sabatier came before his time, Barrington was not ready +to take him unawares. Again he asked the same question, and Barrington +gave him a similar answer.</p> + +<p>"Tell Latour he is a fool."</p> + +<p>"I will. He may end by believing it. I may have news for you to-morrow."</p> + +<p>There was meaning in the words, a suggestion that the news might be good +news. Barrington decided to give his jailer a chance of telling it.</p> + +<p>Sabatier came at the usual hour.</p> + +<p>"Do you bring news?" Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>"Citizen Latour remains a fool. I mean it. I do not believe you know +where mademoiselle is."</p> + +<p>"Then you will help me?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I try every day to persuade Deputy Latour that he is +mistaken."</p> + +<p>"We must try another way, Sabatier."</p> + +<p>"I will, if monsieur will agree to what I say. I have to think of +myself, and Citizen Latour is a dangerous man to thwart. For a day or +two longer I will try and persuade him; if I fail I will do my best to +help you to escape, but you must be patient or you put my neck under the +knife. Do you agree?"</p> + +<p>"Agree! I must. I have no choice."</p> + +<p>"Your servant Seth might help me; where shall I find him?"</p> + +<p>"My good friend, how can I tell? Paris is a large place," was the prompt +answer. Barrington was not going to speak of Monsieur Fargeau. His house +might presently prove the only safe retreat for him in the city.</p> + +<p>"It is a pity, but I shall manage alone," Sabatier answered. "Am I to +give the usual answer to Citizen Latour?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Can any answer be better than the truth?"</p> + +<p>Had a miracle happened? Was this man honestly meaning to help him, or +had he seen that the prisoner intended to attack him and chosen this way +of protecting himself? Barrington could not tell. He could only wait and +see.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX'></a><h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE LETTER</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Jacque Sabatier is busy in these days, also his master Raymond Latour. +Their private affairs must proceed as quickly as possible, but there are +public affairs which must be done at once, which cannot wait, which a +frenzied people loudly demand with cursings and dancings and mad songs.</p> + +<p>War thunders along the frontiers, and passes beyond them. Such a +gathering of nations in arms that right and justice may be done, is a +new thing. Paris has realized its danger, has known it for weeks past; +Jacques Danton, mighty in the Club of the Cordeliers, has urged it with +great words, with a great voice which has made the rafters ring; more, +he has shown how the danger must be met. Safety lies in daring, not once +but again and always. "De l'audace, encore de l'audace, toujours de +l'audace et la France est sauvée." It is a battlecry which has stirred +hearts, and sent ill-conditioned men to face trained regiments, which +are surprised when such a ragged rabble does not turn and run. Courage +is under those rags and something of true patriotism. But there are +other patriots in Paris, and of a different sort. The frontiers are a +long way off, but here to hand is work for them, work which is easy and +pleases them. The Place de la Revolution is their battlefield where they +can yell their war crys and their war songs; their weapon is the +guillotine, and the guillotine is always victorious. The enemy, cursed +aristocrats, and others not aristocrats but equally cursed because they +differ from the people and the people's demigods, are foredoomed to +defeat and death. Only one thing is lacking, sufficient enemies that the +guillotine may not stand idle. Each day must bring its excitement. The +denizens of the slums and alleys of Paris must have their amusement day +by day. The inhabitants of the narrow streets off the Rue Charonne have +forgotten the American they hunted so fiercely, although Richard +Barrington waiting in his underground prison does not know it. They are +yelling, half afraid of their own audacity, for another victim. They +gather daily, in another part of the city, by the Riding Hall close to +the Tuileries. There is excitement in plenty here. In the Rue Charonne +one might walk in safety.</p> + +<p>From the Temple prison an aristocrat, more, a king, has been brought to +answer the charges made against him. They are charges only recently +framed and strangely got together. Save that he is a king, which he +cannot help, what charges can be brought against him? None. There are +many who would make them on the flimsiest foundation, but even such a +foundation does not exist. Danton himself cannot send a king to the +Place de la Revolution for nothing. That would be to dare too greatly. +They have found nothing at the Tuileries or at Versailles to condemn +him. Roland has had diligent search made, fearful perchance of some +letters of his own being found; even the cesspools of the palace have +been dragged. There is no result worth the trouble. No drawer has any +secret to give up save one which has no accusation in it, a child's +letter, simple, loving wishes for a happy New Year, signed by the +little Dauphin, addressed to "My dear Papa." Little enough can Roland +make out of this, for he has no ability to understand even the pathos of +it. Then one day there comes from Versailles, one, François Gamain by +name, a locksmith of that place, a coward fearful for his own safety. +The king has been fond of lock-making, something of the craft Gamain has +taught him, and the king has shared a secret with him. There is a +hiding-place in a corridor behind the king's bedroom, which Gamain has +helped to make, which he now shows to Roland. There are papers there, +many of them, enough in them to prepare evidence against the king and +many others, if necessary; and lest this should fail Gamain has a story +that when the work was done the king attempted to poison him so that the +secret might be safe. So the king must be tried. And louder than ever +thunders the war along the frontier while this trial goes forward. There +can be no quarter, no terms of peace. The sword is sharply naked, there +is no scabbard in which to sheath it. What gauge shall France hurl at +the feet of her enemies? Once again Danton, mighty in the Club of the +Cordeliers, suggests the answer: Why not the head of a king?</p> + +<p>Raymond Latour was busy. Little time could he give to Sabatier when he +came each morning to make report of the prisoner in his cell +underground; he was not inclined to listen to Sabatier's persuasion, or +to be impressed by his henchman's ideas.</p> + +<p>"He knows where she is. He shall tell the truth."</p> + +<p>It was Latour's daily statement, although Sabatier thought it was less +definitely said as the days passed. He was not sure whether Latour's +faith in his conviction was wavering, or whether it was only that he +had other things to think of.</p> + +<p>Those who served Latour were kept busy. It was a time when loss of +popularity might be dangerous, and their master had thrown his into the +balance. His voice had been heard in the Riding Hall where friends were +daily being divided and factions made. He had spoken on behalf of Louis +Capet. The head of a king was not necessary to save France. He had +naught to do with mercy, not even with expedience; Justice spoke louder +than either, and Justice would not be served by the death of Louis +Capet. There were some who roared at him, some who shouted for him; it +was difficult to tell which side was the more numerous. Robespierre +looked at Latour but said nothing. Danton tried argument. Barrère, the +President, tried to understand the popular feeling, and failed. Raymond +Latour had many friends, but he turned some old friends into enemies by +his speech. He was farseeing enough to know that his desire for Justice +was dangerous, would be doubly so unless his hold upon the different +sections of the populace was maintained. So Sabatier, Mercier, Dubois +and the rest had much to do in the districts and among those sections of +the populace where they had influence.</p> + +<p>Still every morning, Sabatier kept Latour in mind of his private +affairs, and argued with him. He did not wait to receive advice, he gave +it, and in such a way that Latour listened. He was still convinced of +Barrington's deceit, but time was passing and mademoiselle was not +found.</p> + +<p>"Even if he knows, the American is not a man to betray confidence. Under +like circumstances you would not speak yourself, citizen."</p> + +<p>"True. I should go to the guillotine as he must."</p> + +<p>"Not yet," said Sabatier. "Give him time and opportunity."</p> + +<p>"Curse him," said Latour. "I want to hear no more about him, I only want +to know that mademoiselle is found."</p> + +<p>In his daily visits to Barrington, Sabatier said little of what was +passing in Paris, but much to persuade him to patience; and as he went +along the streets he kept his eyes open hoping to see Seth. He did not +see him, yet another man gave him the clew and unwittingly directed him +to the house of Citizen Fargeau.</p> + +<p>Seth went little abroad in these days. It was not fear which kept him +within doors, but the hope of receiving at any moment further word of +his master. Everything might depend on prompt action when the moment +came. Few men could remain so patiently inactive as Seth, once he was +convinced that inaction was the best course to pursue. This Latour had +not lied to him. The promised letter from Richard Barrington had been +given to him, he knew that it was genuine, and was content to obey that +letter. For the time being he was as little interested in politics as +Fargeau was, and the news of the king's trial which came into this quiet +retreat had an unreal sound about it, like a faint echo of something +happening a great way off. Richard Barrington filled Seth's mind, he had +little room for any other thoughts.</p> + +<p>One evening there came a knock at his door and the servant of Monsieur +de Lafayette entered.</p> + +<p>"News, at last," Seth said, and in a tone which showed that in spite of +his patience, the waiting had been weary work.</p> + +<p>"A letter," the man answered.</p> + +<p>Seth looked at it. It was addressed to Richard Barrington, just the +name written, that was all.</p> + +<p>"How did you get it?" asked Seth.</p> + +<p>"A girl brought it only to-day. She asked for my master, and when I told +her he was not in Paris, she asked where she could find Monsieur +Barrington. I did not tell her, but I said I could deliver the letter."</p> + +<p>Seth nodded as he turned the letter over and over, a puzzled expression +in his face.</p> + +<p>"She seemed doubtful about leaving it with me, but in the end did so, +saying it was a matter of life and death."</p> + +<p>"It's good of you to have brought it," said Seth. "She did not say who +it was from?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Look at the writing again and tell me if by any chance it comes from +the Marquis."</p> + +<p>"That's a woman's writing," said the man.</p> + +<p>"But not a writing you know?"</p> + +<p>"Quite strange to me."</p> + +<p>When he was alone, Seth locked his door and again examined the writing. +His master only knew one woman in Paris, and surely she could not be +writing to him. She must know where he was. If she didn't, then in some +fashion Latour had deceived him. He put the letter on the table and +began to walk slowly about the room.</p> + +<p>"It is right that I should open it," he said suddenly. "It may be a +matter of life and death to Master Richard. He will forgive me."</p> + +<p>He took up the letter, and after a little hesitation tore it open.</p> + +<p>"It is from her," he said, glancing at the name on the last of the +scraps of paper of which the letter was composed. "I was right to open +it."</p> + +<p>He sat down by the table and read it slowly, certain portions of it he +read a second time, and at intervals made a sound with his mouth like an +oath cut short, or a gasp of surprise half suppressed. So Latour had +lied, and Bruslart had lied, and mademoiselle was—</p> + +<p>"A life and death matter! It's true. It is. Oh, Master Richard, where +are you? It's your letter. She calls to you. What can I do?"</p> + +<p>The words were muttered in hot haste as though the answer must come +quickly. It did.</p> + +<p>"Your letter, yet mine since you are not here. So your work becomes +mine, Master Richard. I must rescue mademoiselle. How? Let me think. Let +me think. God, help me to think."</p> + +<p>There was a slow, heavy footstep upon the stairs, and in a moment Seth +had hidden the letter. Then a knock at the door. Seth opened it, and +stood face to face with Jacques Sabatier, who had his finger upon his +lip.</p> + +<p>"Let me in, citizen. I have turned traitor and have a story to tell."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE MARQUIS DE CASTELLUX</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Much the same thing had Sabatier said to Richard Barrington only that +morning.</p> + +<p>"Deputy Latour will not believe in you," he explained. "He is a fool as +I have told him each day, giving him your message, and I am tired of +serving fools. A day or two, monsieur, and you shall be free. Sabatier +promises that. I am turning traitor."</p> + +<p>Barrington thanked him, he could do no less, yet he felt little trust in +a man who could confess so glibly to treachery. He would believe the +promise when his prison door stood open, when he was free to walk out +unhindered, not before.</p> + +<p>That day was a long one; indeed, each day seemed longer than the one +which preceded it. Confinement was beginning to tell its tale on +Barrington. This underground dungeon, it was little better, was +gradually taking the heart out of him. At first he had been able to +forget long hours in sleep, but latterly this had been denied him. +Sleepless nights succeeded restless days.</p> + +<p>To-night he was restless. The silence about him was like the silence of +the grave, this place was almost as hopeless as the grave. He wondered +how thick these stone walls might be, whether there were other dungeons +beyond where other prisoners wore out their hearts. He stood beneath the +barred grating for a little while, listening. Even the world without +seemed dead. No sound ever came through that narrow opening. What saint, +or repentant sinner had dragged out his days here when this was a cell +in a monastery? Had he never regretted his vows and longed for the world +of sunshine and rain, of blue sky and breezy plain, of star-lit nights +and rough weather? Surely he must have done? The world of sinners was a +fairer place than this stone dwelling though a saint lodged in it. Truly +it was a secure hiding place, or a prison where one might easily be +forgotten. The thought was a horrible one, and Barrington went to the +door. It was locked. It was a stout door, too, of wood and iron. If +Latour and Sabatier were arrested, as might easily happen, that door +would remain locked. Probably no other person knew that he was there. He +was in the mood when such thoughts cannot be driven out of the brain. +There was half a bottle of thin wine remaining from his last meal, and +he drank it greedily. His throat was suddenly dry and his hand was +unsteady as he raised the glass to his lips. He was conscious of the +fact, shook himself, stamped his foot sharply on the stone floor, and +spoke to himself aloud.</p> + +<p>"This is cowardice, Richard, and for cowardice there is no excuse."</p> + +<p>Something like that his mother had once said to him. He had not +remembered it until he had spoken the words, and then the recollection +brought many scenes to his mind, dreams of youth, back, how far back? +how long ago? memories of old times, a green hummock and the blue waters +of Chesapeake Bay. The world had changed since then. Father, mother +gone, voices silent forever, loved voices never to be forgotten; and +yet, in those days there had been no Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne!" he said aloud. "Jeanne!"</p> + +<p>Then he was silent, and his nerves grew tense. The silence was suddenly +broken, not rudely but stealthily as a thief breaks it, or as one who +knows that crime is best accomplished in the night; a key was being +fumbled into the lock. Sabatier would open quickly, knowing the key and +the lock, besides, Sabatier had never come at this hour. It was a +stranger. Friend or foe? Barrington moved towards the door. Whoever came +would find him awake, ready to sell life dearly, perchance to win +freedom. The key was pushed home and turned. The door opened cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Seth!"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Master Richard. I know not what danger is near us, but come +quickly and quietly. Bring that lantern. We must chance the light until +I find the way."</p> + +<p>Barrington caught up the lantern from the table and followed him.</p> + +<p>"He said to the right," whispered Seth.</p> + +<p>"Who said so?" asked Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Sabatier."</p> + +<p>"Is he honest?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Master Richard, but he brought me through many vaults and +showed me the door, then left me quickly. He did not lie when he said +you were behind it; and see, a way to the right and steps. He did not +lie about them either."</p> + +<p>They went up the stairs cautiously, Seth leading, and at the top was a +trapdoor, unfastened, easily lifted.</p> + +<p>"Again he told the truth," Seth whispered.</p> + +<p>They were in a cellar full of rubbish, evil smelling, too, and at the +end was a door; a turned handle opened it, and a few steps brought them +up into a passage.</p> + +<p>"Set down the lantern, Master Richard, and blow it out. We shall not +need it. Come quietly."</p> + +<p>The passage led to an open door, and they stepped into the street, +little more than a narrow alley, dark and silent.</p> + +<p>"Sabatier said to the right. All is well so far. Shall we follow his +instructions to the end?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Barrington answered.</p> + +<p>They came without hindrance into a wider street. It was the street in +which Barrington had been attacked by the mob; half of that crowd must +have come down this very alley. They went quickly, their direction +towards Monsieur Fargeau's house. They entered the street in which it +stood, and then Seth stopped.</p> + +<p>"We don't go in yet, Master Richard, I have something to show you first. +There is a little wine shop here, unknown to patriots, I think. It is +safe, safer than Monsieur Fargeau's perchance."</p> + +<p>The shop was empty. A woman greeted them and brought them wine.</p> + +<p>"Read that letter, Master Richard. I will tell you how I got it, and why +I opened it, afterwards."</p> + +<p>So Jeanne's letter came into the hands of the man she had turned to in +her peril and distress.</p> + +<p>Even as he read it, bending over the scraps of paper in the poorly +lighted wine shop, she was eagerly questioning Marie. The letter was of +such immense importance to her, so much hung upon it, that now it had +gone Jeanne began to wonder whether the best means of getting it into +the right hands had been taken, whether a surer method might not have +been thought of.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Barrington had not left Paris?"</p> + +<p>"No, mademoiselle, for the man said he would deliver the letter."</p> + +<p>"Will he, Marie, will he? Do you think he was honest?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, oh yes, he was honest, or I should not have parted with the +letter."</p> + +<p>"But he could have told you where Monsieur Barrington was and let you +deliver it," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"He would not do that, and he had a reason, a good one," Marie answered. +"It was necessary that Monsieur Barrington's whereabouts should be kept +secret. He could not tell any one where he was, he had promised. For all +he knew I might be an enemy and the letter a trick. He would deliver it +if I left it with him."</p> + +<p>"You could do nothing else, Marie."</p> + +<p>"What troubles me, mademoiselle, is how the gentleman is to help you to +get away from this house," said the girl. "The master does not let +people go unless he is told to by—by powerful men, men he must obey. I +think he is as afraid of them as I am of him."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Marie, if the letter only reaches Monsieur Barrington most of the +danger is gone," said Jeanne. "He will find a way, I know he will. +Somehow, he will help me. He is a brave man, Marie, I know, I know. He +has saved me twice already. I should have no fear at all were I certain +that he had the letter."</p> + +<p>The girl was silent for a moment, and then said quietly—</p> + +<p>"It must be wonderful to have a lover like that."</p> + +<p>Perhaps Jeanne was too occupied with her own thoughts to notice the +girl's words, perhaps she considered it impossible to make Marie +understand that it is not only a lover who will do great things for a +woman; at any rate, she made no answer. It mattered little what the girl +thought.</p> + +<p>It was difficult for Jeanne to live her days quietly, to look and behave +as though the coming Saturday had no especial meaning for her. Legrand, +when she met him, was more than usually courteous, and Jeanne was +careful to treat him as she had always done. He might be watching her, +and it would be well to attract as little attention as possible. She +could not tell what might happen if only her letter had found its way +into Richard Barrington's hands. How could he help her? What could he +do?</p> + +<p>It was January, and cold, but the weather was fine and sunny. At noon it +was pleasant to walk in the garden, and many of the guests did so. The +Abbé took his daily walk there even when it rained. He might have been +the host by his manner, and was certainly the ruling spirit. Even +Legrand seemed a little afraid of him and treated him with marked +respect. The Abbé was a worldling, a lover of purple and fine linen and +of the people who lived in them; he was therefore especially attentive +to Jeanne St. Clair, knowing that she belonged to one of the noblest +families in the land. With him Jeanne took her daily walk in the garden, +and had little need to say much, for the Abbé loved to hear himself +talk; she could think her own thoughts, could even be depressed without +the Abbé noticing the fact. His companionship enabled her to escape from +the other guests for a while without any apparent effort on her part to +withdraw herself from the daily routine. She took her place in the +evening amusements, occupied a seat at one of the card tables, danced +and smiled, met wit with wit, and was envied by some who were not so +sure of the coming Saturday as mademoiselle must surely be.</p> + +<p>In her walks Jeanne's eyes wandered along the top of the high garden +walls. Richard Barrington might come that way, or at least give her a +sign that way; and when she could be alone without raising comment she +watched from her window which overlooked the garden.</p> + +<p>So the Monday and the Tuesday passed, and Wednesday dawned. How fast the +week was passing! Her letter to Richard Barrington had been very urgent. +She had told him all about this house, the purpose for which it was +used, how the garden stood in regard to it. She had explained the +general routine, had given the names of the guests. If he was to help +her the fullest information would be of use. There might be some point +in her description of which he could take advantage. This was Wednesday, +and he had made no sign. Surely he had never got the letter.</p> + +<p>Had not the Abbé been so fond of hearing the sound of his own voice, had +he not been so used to his brilliant listener, he must surely have noted +that Jeanne was not herself to-day as they walked in the garden.</p> + +<p>"There is a new arrival I hear, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"Indeed. I thought every room was occupied."</p> + +<p>"Ah, mademoiselle, I fear there must be some one who is not able to pay +next Saturday. I have often noticed that new arrivals have come a day or +two before the time, putting up with anything until the room was left +vacant for them on Saturday."</p> + +<p>"I wonder who is going," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"It is a pity we cannot pick and choose," the Abbé returned. "There are +one or two in the company we could well dispense with."</p> + +<p>Jeanne's eyes flashed at his callousness, but he did not notice.</p> + +<p>"There are some here that Legrand ought not to have taken," the Abbé +went on.</p> + +<p>"But they pay."</p> + +<p>"Ah, mademoiselle, you have hit it. They pay, and this fellow Legrand is +satisfied. He has no sense of the fitness of things, yet this house has +the name of being exclusive."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for those who go, whoever they may be," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"It is natural. I am not unsympathetic; but since some one must go it +seems a pity we cannot choose."</p> + +<p>"Is it a man or woman who has come?"</p> + +<p>"A man; his name the Marquis de Castellux. If my memory serves me, it is +a Breton name, a good family, but one which has not figured largely at +Court."</p> + +<p>"He should be an acquisition," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"I hope so, mademoiselle. We may find him provincial, yet not without +wit or merit. I will make his acquaintance, and with your permission +will present him to you. You can give me your opinion when we talk +together to-morrow."</p> + +<p>How near Saturday was! This new arrival emphasized the fact. She was the +one who was going, and it was this room, her room, that he would occupy +presently. Even the selfish, callous Abbé would regret that she was the +one to go. She could picture the surprise in his face when he saw her +empty place. She would not tell him.</p> + +<p>Jeanne stayed in her room this afternoon. It could not matter whether +her absence was heeded or not. Nothing mattered now. Richard Barrington +had not got her letter. The one friend she had in Paris did not know +how sorely she needed him. Somehow, somewhere, he might hear what had +happened, what would he say? No actual answer came to this mental +question, but a train of thought was started in her brain bringing +strange fancies. Perhaps Richard Barrington loved her. In an indefinite +way she had considered this possibility before, but it was a passing +fancy, not to be dwelt upon. Homage from such a man was pleasant, but +she loved Lucien. She must be careful in this man's company, and if he +overstepped ordinary courtesy in the least, she must show him plainly +that she loved Lucien. Surely she had shown him this already. But to-day +the thought was not to be so lightly dismissed, and a warm glow at her +heart told her how pleasant the idea was. Lucien appeared to have faded +out of her life. She could not believe him false, but his image had +grown altogether dim, while this other man was real, vital. Even now she +could feel the pressure of his hand as it had held hers as they ran +together from the Lion d'Or that night. She could see the encouragement +in his eyes when they had quarreled loudly as they entered the barrier +next morning. She remembered the look in his face when she had last seen +him in Monsieur de Lafayette's apartment, when he had said he was always +at her service. He would surely remember that last meeting, too, should +he ever know that she had sent him a letter which had never reached him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he loves me, it must be so," she said, and she rose and looked +from her window into the empty garden which was growing dark now at the +close of the short day. "I am glad. It gives me courage. I will be +worthy of the love of such a man, though he will never know that he +influenced me, will never know that I was glad he loved me. This Doctor +Legrand, this miserable bargainer in lives, shall not see a trace of +fear or regret in me. Wednesday passes. Three more days. I will make a +brave show in them, and pass out to whatever fate awaits me with steady +step and head erect, worthy of my father's name, worthy of—worthy of +him."</p> + +<p>There was a smile on her lips as she entered the salon that night, no +brilliant apartment, it is true, and somewhat dimly lighted for a scene +of festivity. Some one said they were to dance that night, and card +tables were set ready for players. There were many brave hearts there, +shadowed hearts—misery concealed by a smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will dance presently," said Jeanne to a man who greeted her. +"Cards! Yes, I will play. How, else should we fill such long evenings?"</p> + +<p>Others caught her spirit. An animation came into the conversation, there +was real laughter.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle," said a voice behind her, the voice of the Abbé, sonorous +and important. "Mademoiselle, permit me the honor to present to you the +Marquis de Castellux."</p> + +<p>Jeanne turned, the smile still upon her lips. The Marquis bowed so low +his face was hidden for a moment, but he took her hand and, as he raised +it to his lips, pressed it sharply.</p> + +<p>"I am honored, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>Then his head was raised. The smile was still upon her lips, kept there +by a great effort. The sudden pressure of her fingers had warned her, +and she gave no sign of her astonishment.</p> + +<p>She was looking into the face of Richard Barrington.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE COMING OF SATURDAY</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>"Monsieur L'Abbé."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"I find Monsieur de Castellux very pleasant, a little provincial as you +supposed, but with wit. We have common friends, too, who have suffered. +We shall have much to talk about."</p> + +<p>Barely an hour had passed since the introduction, and very little +conversation had passed between Jeanne and Barrington, but that little +had been to the point.</p> + +<p>"We have much to say to one another, mademoiselle," Barrington said; "we +must let these people believe that we have common interests to account +for our friendship. The Abbé is inclined to be inquisitive, you must +explain to him. I will casually let others know that our families are +connected. Where is it easiest to be alone here?"</p> + +<p>"In the breakfast room."</p> + +<p>"No one watches us there?"</p> + +<p>"I think not. There is no desire to run away; people remain here to be +safe."</p> + +<p>"Then to-morrow, mademoiselle," said Barrington. "We will not notice +each other much further to-night."</p> + +<p>Jeanne did as she was told, it seemed natural to obey Richard +Barrington, and she explained to the Abbé, who was delighted that so +presentable a person had joined the company.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I shall look to become better acquainted with him," he +said. "Most probably he and I have common friends, too."</p> + +<p>It was not until Jeanne had shut herself in her own room that night, +that she realized fully what the coming of Richard Barrington meant to +her. It was still Wednesday, but what a difference a few short hours had +made! Saturday had lost its meaning for her. There was no sense of fear +or apprehension at her heart; she was strangely happy. Not a word of his +plans had Richard Barrington whispered to her, no explanation of how he +came to be there; he told her that he had got her letter, that was all. +Yet she suddenly felt safe. That which was best to be done, Richard +Barrington would do, and it would certainly be successful. On this point +no doubts disturbed her. Doubts came presently in another way. The +reflection in her mirror brought them. She remembered the face which had +looked out at her only a few hours ago, and the face that laughed at her +now was a revelation. There was color in the cheeks, so bright a color +she did not remember to have noticed before, not even in those moments +when she had been tempted to compare herself favorably with other women; +there was a sparkle in the eyes that never since the flight from Paris +to Beauvais had she seen in them. It was a joyous, happy girl who looked +back at her from the depths of the mirror, and Jeanne turned away +wondering. It was natural she should feel safe now Richard Barrington +had come, but how was the great joy in her heart to be accounted for? +Would it have been there had it been Lucien who had come to save her? +The question seemed to ask itself, without any will of hers, and the +little room seemed suddenly alive with the answer. It almost frightened +her, yet still she was happy. She sank on her knees beside the bed and +her head was lowered before the crucifix. The soul of a pure, brave +woman was outpoured in thankfulness; "Mother of God, for this help +vouchsafed I thank thee. Keep me this night, this week, always. Bring me +peace. Bring me—" The head sank lower, the lips not daring to ask too +much.</p> + +<p>The morning came with sunlight in it, cold but clear. Jeanne peeped from +her window and was satisfied, peeped into the mirror, and wondered no +more at the smiling face there. She knew why such joy had come. She +could not reason about it, she did not attempt to do so; the knowledge +was all sufficient. It was Thursday morning. Saturday was very near. +What did it signify? Nothing. To-day it would be like spring in the +garden.</p> + +<p>Barrington greeted Jeanne with the studied courtesy of a comparative +stranger.</p> + +<p>"We must be careful," he whispered, "there are certain to be watchful +eyes. Show no interest or astonishment in what I tell you as we eat. +Remember, you are merely being courteous to a new arrival of whose +existence you have known something in the past."</p> + +<p>"I understand. I shall listen very carefully."</p> + +<p>"I am greatly honored, mademoiselle, by your letter. I need not ask +whether you trust me."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no," she answered.</p> + +<p>"It might easily have come into my hands too late," Barrington went on. +"We are both victims of deception, and where the truth lies I cannot +tell even now. I will recount what has happened; you may be able to +throw some light upon it."</p> + +<p>Barrington told her everything from his first meeting with Raymond +Latour when a filthy crowd was yelling round a prisoner, to the moment +when her letter had been handed to him by Seth.</p> + +<p>"Your letter gave me an idea, mademoiselle. To help you I must become an +inmate of this house. Yesterday Seth brought me here, posing as a +wealthy eccentric relative anxious to place me in safety. I am a little +mad, and there is no knowing what folly I might commit were I allowed to +continue at liberty. My stay here is likely to be a long one, and my +relatives care little what they pay so long as I am out of their hands. +You may guess perhaps that Dr. Legrand asked few questions with such a +golden bribe before him. Now, mademoiselle, what do you know of this +Raymond Latour?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," Jeanne answered. "I have heard him spoken of as being +one of the leaders of the Revolution. To my knowledge I have never seen +him."</p> + +<p>"Has Lucien Bruslart never mentioned him?"</p> + +<p>"As we drove here that morning he said that this Latour was one of the +most bitter antagonists of aristocrats, and that he would do all in his +power to capture me. Lucien said this was the chief reason for bringing +me to this place of safety. I must tell you, Monsieur Barrington, that +on leaving you that morning, we got into a coach and drove straight +here. My coming had already been arranged for. I did not go to Lucien's +apartments at all. He did not seem inclined to trust either you or the +Marquis de Lafayette."</p> + +<p>"He was justified perhaps in not trusting me on so slight an +acquaintance. I do not blame him. Still, I am much puzzled by his +subsequent actions, and the fact remains that while Lucien Bruslart has +done little for you, or so at least it appears, this man Latour most +certainly risked his life to get you out of the Abbaye prison."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I do not understand it," said Jeanne; and then after a pause she +went on, "You read all my letter?"</p> + +<p>"A dozen times," Barrington answered.</p> + +<p>"Does it not help you to understand something?"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, you ask me a difficult question. I answer it directly, +and in spite of the fact that it must pain you, only because of the +seriousness of your position. I have never trusted Lucien Bruslart. I +believe he has played you false from first to last in this affair. I +believe he sent for you to come to Paris; how else could your coming +here have been arranged for? Honestly, I have tried to drive these +thoughts out of my mind as treacherous and unworthy, but your letter +seems only to confirm them. How is it your fees to this scoundrel +Legrand have not been paid? How is it your own money has been taken? +Bruslart is not in prison. Where is he? Could anything short of locks +and bars stop your lover from coming to you?"</p> + +<p>He spoke in a low, passionate tone, but his face remained calm, and he +made no gesture of anger, of impatience. Watching him, the keenest eyes +could not have detected that he was moved in any way.</p> + +<p>"My letter must have shown you the doubts in my mind," Jeanne answered +quietly. "Since you helped me into Paris at so much risk to yourself, I +cannot see that your thoughts could be called unworthy or treacherous."</p> + +<p>"For all that, they were. Had you not loved Lucien Bruslart it would +have been different."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"That question must remain unanswered, mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>Jeanne turned to him for a moment, but Barrington did not look at her.</p> + +<p>"I think I know," she said quietly, after a pause. "Some other day I +shall ask the question again, monsieur—if we live. I wrote my letter to +the one friend I knew I had in Paris; that man is now beside me. I have +no fear, Monsieur Barrington, just because you are here. You are risking +your life for me, not for the first time. If you fail it means my death +as well as yours. I would rather it came that way than any other, and I +am not afraid. Tell me your plans."</p> + +<p>For a few moments Barrington was silent. "We will not fail," he said +suddenly. "I want to laugh and cry out for joy but dare not. I have been +in a dream, mademoiselle, while you have been speaking; sitting on a +small green mound looking across the bluest waters in the world. I shall +tell you about that mound and those waters some day. We shall live, +mademoiselle, never doubt that we shall live. My plan is not yet +complete, but—"</p> + +<center> +<img src='images/1.jpg' width='417' height='600' alt='"Never fear, Mademoiselle, we shall live."' title='"Never fear, Mademoiselle, we shall live."'> +</center> + +<p>"This is Thursday," said Jeanne. "Saturday is very near."</p> + +<p>"I know. We go to-morrow night, but the exact details I cannot tell you +yet. There are one or two things I must find out first. I have arranged +everything as far as I can, but we cannot hope for much help from +others. The first thing is to get out of this trap, the rest we must +leave for the present. The Abbé yonder looks as though he envied me your +company, mademoiselle. I think you should go to him. I shall not +attempt to speak to you much more to-day. To-morrow morning we will meet +here again for a final word."</p> + +<p>The Abbé was more than ever convinced of his own attractions as Jeanne +left the Marquis de Castellux with a little grave courtesy and joined +him. He had found her substitute a poor companion and walked much less +in the garden than usual.</p> + +<p>"You find the Marquis very interesting?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but very provincial. One soon becomes weary of such company, yet +one must be kind, Monsieur l'Abbé," and Jeanne laughed lightly. She +appeared much more interested in him than she had been in the Marquis.</p> + +<p>Richard Barrington talked to others for a little while, and then went +into the office. He found a servant and asked if he could see Legrand. +The doctor was out. Barrington was rather annoyed. He wanted to see the +room he was to have after Saturday. At present he was stalled like a +pig, he declared.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur will have nothing to complain of after Saturday," the servant +answered.</p> + +<p>"Which guest is leaving?"</p> + +<p>"Pardon, monsieur, it is not etiquette to speak of it; but if monsieur +likes I can show him the room."</p> + +<p>"Show it to me, then."</p> + +<p>"I am a poor man, monsieur, and cannot afford to work for nothing."</p> + +<p>"How much?" Barrington asked.</p> + +<p>The servant named a price, and if he received many such fees he would +not long be able to call himself a poor man. Barrington paid him, and +was taken upstairs and shown Jeanne's room. He did not cross the +threshold, hardly glanced in at the door, in fact, but grumbled at its +size and its position. He would have liked this room or that. Why not +one at the end of this passage? He liked to be in a light passage.</p> + +<p>"It is not a pleasant outlook this side, monsieur, stable roofs, a bare +wall and no garden."</p> + +<p>"Truly, a prospect to drive a man to despair," growled Barrington, +looking from the passage window on to the roofs of outbuildings a few +feet below, and across at the house which these buildings joined, and +which was at the end of a row of houses facing the street. There was +only one window in that opposite wall, twelve or fourteen feet above +these outbuildings, a dirty window, fast shut.</p> + +<p>"I think very little of Monsieur Legrand's asylum," said Barrington, +turning away in disgust. "I shall tell him so."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, monsieur, if it will ease your mind."</p> + +<p>"He is out, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Since early this morning."</p> + +<p>"He ought to stop here and look after his guests," and then Barrington +became apprehensive. "He would be angry if I told him so. Would he?"</p> + +<p>"He might."</p> + +<p>"Or if you told him I had said so?"</p> + +<p>"Probably."</p> + +<p>"You must not tell him. See, here is more money, and there will be more +still so long as you do not tell him."</p> + +<p>The servant promised to be silent, and told the other servants that the +Marquis could be plundered at will. Barrington considered the money well +spent. He had examined the house without any risk of being caught +taking observations, and he had ascertained that Legrand could not have +spied upon him had he walked in the garden.</p> + +<p>That night the Abbé decided that, although the Marquis had not made any +great impression on Mademoiselle St. Clair, he was a decided acquisition +to the establishment, witty within his provincial limits, the breed in +him unmistakable. At Versailles he would speedily have learned how to +become a courtier.</p> + +<p>In the salon that evening there was dancing, and Barrington danced, but +not with Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"I dare not, mademoiselle," he said in a whispered explanation. "I can +trust myself only to a certain point, and to touch you would be to +betray my happiness. I dare not run that risk. I am bent on showing that +I have no special regard for you, and that there is no reason why you +should give any special thought to me."</p> + +<p>She did not answer, but the color was in her face, a glow was in her +heart.</p> + +<p>When the Abbé went out into the garden on the following morning Jeanne +left the Marquis at once, and joined him for their usual walk. Certainly +she had not given the Marquis more than five minutes of her company. The +Abbé would have talked of him, but Jeanne pleaded that he should talk of +something interesting.</p> + +<p>"Upon my honor, mademoiselle, I believe you will end by disliking poor +Monsieur de Castellux."</p> + +<p>"Would that be worth while?" Jeanne asked.</p> + +<p>She seemed to listen eagerly to all the Abbé said to her, but she was +thinking of her short conversation with Barrington. She must show no +excitement.</p> + +<p>Legrand came into the salon that night. He took no notice of +Barrington, who was playing cards, totally absorbed in his game, but he +watched Jeanne for a little while, and presently approached her.</p> + +<p>"You are very brave, mademoiselle," he said.</p> + +<p>"Is it not best?"</p> + +<p>"I am very grieved," said Legrand.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, you have heard nothing from—from Lucien Bruslart?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow! Where will they take me to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, mademoiselle. I am never told."</p> + +<p>Late hours were not kept at the Maison Legrand, candles were an +expensive item. Jeanne was among the first to move this evening.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Monsieur l'Abbé."</p> + +<p>"Good night, mademoiselle," he said, raising her hand to his lips. +"To-morrow is Saturday. I wonder who goes to-morrow? We are happy in +having no anxiety."</p> + +<p>Barrington was by the door and opened it for her.</p> + +<p>"Does mademoiselle permit?" and as he bent over her hand he whispered, +"Be ready. Listen. Wait until I come."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE EMPTY HOUSE</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The thought of the morrow was pleasant to Dr. Legrand. In his study he +bent over a paper of calculations, figures that appealed to the greedy +soul that was in him.</p> + +<p>"Vive la Revolution," he murmured; "it makes me rich. He is careful, +this citizen, and does not trust me to fulfill a bargain. To-morrow I +shall have the papers; it will be early, and then—then the money. He +cannot escape without my help, he cannot escape me."</p> + +<p>He put down his pen and rubbed his hands together. He was excited +to-night.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for mademoiselle," he said as he went to bed, but his sorrow +did not keep him awake, his conscience was too dead to trouble him. He +slept as a just man sleeps, soundly.</p> + +<p>Jeanne did not sleep. She sat in the dark, waiting, listening. Doors +were shut in distant corridors, the house gradually grew quiet. She sat +with her hands clasped in her lap, a little excited, but not impatient. +How long she had waited, how long she would have to wait, she did not +know, but she had perfect faith, and did not become restless. A moment +was coming when she must act, and she was prepared. Just that moment +mattered and nothing else; all her thoughts were focused upon it.</p> + +<p>It came suddenly, a scratching on the door, so light as to be inaudible +except to listening ears. Jeanne rose at once, silently opened the door, +which purposely she had not latched, and stepped into the passage. A +hand touched her on the arm and then slid down her arm until it clasped +her fingers. She was pulled forward gently.</p> + +<p>"The stairs—carefully," whispered a voice.</p> + +<p>Not a sound was in the house, nor in the world it seemed, as they went +down the stairs and along the passage to the window which overlooked the +roof of the outbuildings. The night was dark, overcast, not a star. This +was a window seldom opened. Last night Barrington had examined it, had +eased the latch; now there was hardly a sound as he opened it, only the +cold night air coming in.</p> + +<p>"I go first," said Barrington; and he climbed out and dropped silently +on to the roof some five feet below. Jeanne followed, and he lifted her +down. Then he climbed up again, and, supporting himself on the sill, +closed the window.</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand," he whispered; and he led her across the roof, +feeling his way carefully to prevent tripping over a partition or +gutter. Jeanne did not speak, but followed his whispered instructions; +she made no sound when he bent down and taking her foot placed it upon a +little parapet which they had to cross, and she stood perfectly still +until he lifted her down. A few paces more and Barrington stopped. He +guided her hand to a rope.</p> + +<p>"Give me your other hand," he whispered.</p> + +<p>Thar, too, he guided until it grasped a rope, a second rope. Then he +took her foot and put it upon a strand of rope which gave under her +weight.</p> + +<p>"A ladder," he whispered. "I will hold you as far as I can, then you +must go up alone. A hand will be stretched down to help you. My man Seth +is at the window above."</p> + +<p>Barrington gave a low whistle, hardly more than a sign, which was +answered from above.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said.</p> + +<p>He helped her as far as possible, then held the rope ladder as steady as +he could. In a few seconds another low whistle came from above, and +Barrington went up the ladder quickly. He climbed in at the open window, +drew up the ladder, and closed the window.</p> + +<p>"An excellent night for our purpose, Master Richard," Seth whispered. +"Here is a sword, it is well to masquerade and be as much like truculent +ruffians as possible; and two cockades, one for mademoiselle."</p> + +<p>"We are expected, Seth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, any time before morning. They are prepared for us."</p> + +<p>"Where are we going?" whispered Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"To the lodgings of a servant of Monsieur de Lafayette," Barrington +answered. "This is an empty house which we shall leave by a window +below. The worst is over. We shall be secure in our retreat until we can +leave Paris. Lead the way, Seth."</p> + +<p>A set of rooms opened out into another, a door enclosing them from the +passage without. Seth led the way through the rooms and opened this door +quietly. Then he stopped and drew back a little.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said Barrington under his breath.</p> + +<p>"Listen!"</p> + +<p>Jeanne's hand was still in Barrington's, and he felt her fingers +tighten. To her the house was as still as death, the blackness of it +empty; but to her companions whose ears were trained to keenness, there +was movement in the air close to them.</p> + +<p>"How many," Barrington whispered, not asking information, but rather +confirmation of his own estimate.</p> + +<p>"Several," Seth answered.</p> + +<p>"Tramps, perhaps, lodging here for the night."</p> + +<p>"I fear not. They are on the stairs. We shall soon see," answered Seth.</p> + +<p>"Lock the door; we must wait," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>It was done in a moment, and immediately there were stealthy, shuffling +feet in the passage without.</p> + +<p>"Curse them," muttered Seth. "I have been followed. For all my care I +have brought you into ruin. What can we do?"</p> + +<p>"Wait."</p> + +<p>"Master Richard, is there no other way of escape from that roof below?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>Jeanne's hand was still in his, still holding him tightly. He could not +feel that she trembled, yet he could not trust himself to speak to her. +He had failed to rescue her. There were many in the passage without, he +was sure of that. He could fight for her, die for her, but he could not +save her. He dared not speak to her lest he should cry out in the +anguish of his soul.</p> + +<p>The handle of the door was tried, gently. Then there was silence again.</p> + +<p>"Give us the woman and you may go free."</p> + +<p>The words were not spoken loudly. It seemed like the offer of a secret +bargain, a suggestion in it that the woman might not hear, and might +never know that her companions had betrayed her to save themselves.</p> + +<p>Then Jeanne spoke, in a whisper but quite clearly.</p> + +<p>"It is the end. You have done all that a man could do. I thank you—I +thank you; and you, too, Seth. A woman never had truer friends."</p> + +<p>She stretched out a hand to Seth, who caught it almost roughly and +pressed his lips to it.</p> + +<p>There was pressure upon the door, and the cracking of the wood.</p> + +<p>"There's quick death for the first man who crosses this threshold," Seth +muttered as he went to the door.</p> + +<p>"Richard! Richard!"</p> + +<p>"Jeanne!"</p> + +<p>Barrington's head was lowered as he whispered her name. It seemed as +though failure had made him ashamed.</p> + +<p>"I know your secret, dear, I know it and am glad," she whispered. "I +thank God that I am loved by such a man. I would rather be where I am at +this moment, by your side, than in the place of any other woman in the +world, however free she may be. Richard, kiss me."</p> + +<p>"Jeanne! Jeanne!" he cried as he caught her in his arms. "I love you! I +love you! God, send a miracle to help us."</p> + +<p>"He will let us be together soon and for always, if not here, in +heaven," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"The door gives, Master Richard," Seth said.</p> + +<p>"Back into the corner, Jeanne. Who knows what may happen?"</p> + +<p>"We may win through, Master Richard. Be ready, the door will be down in +a moment."</p> + +<p>The clumsy saber with which Seth had provided him was in his hand, as he +stepped forward in readiness. They might have retreated through the +other rooms, to the one into which they had climbed, closing every door +they could in the face of their enemies, but for what purpose? There was +no escape that way, time was no object to them, whereas it was just +possible that their assailants would expect them to do this and rush +past them. Barrington hastily whispered this possibility to Seth. There +was no time for an answer. The door splintered and broke, and the +foremost ruffians were shot into the room by the pressure of those +behind. There was no rush towards the rooms beyond, nor a shout of +triumph even. The first articulate sound was a cry from the man cut down +by Seth.</p> + +<p>In the fierce struggle of an unequal fight a man thinks little. The +forcible present of each moment obliterates the past and future. Just +for one instant it occurred to Barrington that Jeanne might possibly +escape unnoticed if Seth and he fought savagely enough, and the next +moment he was putting this idea into action without any thought beyond +it. In the doorway there were men holding dim lanterns, and the light +flickered on savage faces, now here, now there. The room seemed full of +men, crowded, there was hardly room to fight effectually. Barrington +struck on this side and that, yet his blows never seemed to reach their +destination. For a little while he and Seth were back to back, but had +soon been separated. Now there seemed no order or purpose in the +struggle. It was a nightmare of confusion. A face glared into his for a +moment then disappeared, its place taken the next instant by another. +Strangely familiar faces some of them seemed, memories from dreams long +ago. There had been hands on the estate in Virginia, men he had been +rather afraid of when he was a little child; they seemed to stare at him +now for a moment, lit by a red fire which no longer seemed merely the +light from the lanterns. Then came other faces; that of the man he and +Seth had found on the Trémont road, that of Sabatier's companion at the +inn. Then the faces of the men who had made a rush for the stairs that +night at the Lion d'Or fiercely glared at him; then Mercier's, so close +that he could feel the hot breath upon his cheek. And then suddenly out +of the darkness glowed another face, that of the man who had looked at +him when he was caught in the crowd on his way to the Rue Charonne that +night, and it seemed to Barrington that once again he sprang forward to +make an attempt to save himself by flight. The illusion was complete, +for there was a voice of command in his ear. He struck at something that +was in his way, something which seemed to catch him by the throat, then +he jumped and fell. He was in darkness and silence.</p> + +<p>Jeanne had started from her corner. Everything happened quickly. She +heard the door break inwards, saw a rush of men, and lanterns in the +opening. For a few moments she could distinguish Richard Barrington and +Seth. Then Seth fell, dragging others with him. For a little longer +Barrington struggled, and then from behind something was thrown over his +head and he was pulled backwards. Jeanne started from her corner with a +cry, and immediately arms were about her, holding her back.</p> + +<p>"No harm will come to him, we are friends," said a voice in her ear. "A +sound may betray you and us."</p> + +<p>She tried to speak, but could not. Her words were turned into a mumble. +A cloth was over her mouth and face, fastened tightly, strong arms +lifted her and carried her forwards. She could not see, she could not +struggle. The noise of the fighting grew rapidly less. She was being +swiftly carried away from it, now along a passage, now down two or three +flights of stairs. She was in the open air, the cold wind of the night +was about her. There were voices, a quick word or two, then other arms +were about her, placing her in a chair it seemed—no, a coach. Wheels +turned quickly on the uneven cobbles of the street, a horse galloped, +and then settled into a fast trot. Whether the journey was long or +short, Jeanne hardly knew, her brain was in a whirl, refusing to work +consecutively. The coach stopped, again strong arms lifted her, again a +passage, the night air still about her, then stairs up which she was +borne. A door opened and she was gently placed in a chair. The door +closed again. For a moment there was silence.</p> + +<p>"You're quite safe, chérie," said a woman's voice, and fingers were +undoing the cloth which was bound round Jeanne's head. "You're quite +safe. No one in Paris would think of looking for you here."</p> + +<p>The cloth fell off, and Jeanne, half dazed, only partly understanding +what had happened, looked about her. Her companion, an old woman with a +tri-color cockade fastened to her dress, watched her.</p> + +<p>The room, one of two opening into each other, was small, mean, yet fresh +and dainty. Cheap curtains hung before the windows and about the alcove +where the bed was; the curtains and the paintwork were white, two or +three cheap prints were upon the walls, a strip of carpet and a rug lay +on the polished boards.</p> + +<p>"Where am I?" Jeanne asked.</p> + +<p>"In safety," answered the old woman.</p> + +<p>So Mademoiselle St. Clair came at last to the rooms which Raymond Latour +had so carefully prepared.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE AMBITION OF RAYMOND LATOUR</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>The dawn came slowly creeping over Paris, cold and with a whip of gusty +rain in it. It stole in to touch the faces of many sleepers, innocent +sleepers, in hiding and in prison, who for a little while had forgotten +their fear and peril; brutal sleepers who for a little space lay +harmless, heavy with satisfied lust and wine. It stole into empty rooms, +rooms that should be occupied; into Legrand's house in the Rue Charonne +where two beds had not been slept in; into hovels in narrow byways of +the city to which men and women had not returned last night, but had +spent the sleeping hours, as befitted such patriots, in revelry and +songs and wine. It stole into a little room with cheap white curtains, +and looked upon a woman who had thrown herself half dressed on the bed +and had fallen asleep, tired out, exhausted. It crept into a room below +and touched the figure of a man seated by the table. A lamp stood near +him, but either he had turned it out, or it had burned out; an open book +was before him, but he had read little, and no knowledge of what he had +read remained. For hours he had sat there in darkness, but no sleep had +come to him. The night had been a long waking dream of things past, and +present, and the future a confusion of thoughts which could not be +reduced to any order. All the threads of a great scheme were in his +hands, yet he was uncertain how to use them to the best advantage. The +moment he had struggled for had come. This day, this dawn, was the +beginning of the future. How was he to make the best of it?</p> + +<p>Presently he was conscious of feeling cold, and he made himself some +coffee, moving about his room quietly. He remembered the woman upstairs. +She was sleeping, surely. He had listened during the night and had not +heard her. He had held her in his arms, had carried her up the stairs +and placed her gently in a chair, leaving her in the care of the woman +from the baker's shop at the corner of the alley. She would wake +presently and he would see her. What should he say to her?</p> + +<p>The coffee warmed Raymond Latour, but there was unusual excitement in +his movements. As the light increased he sat down and tried to read. It +was a volume of Plutarch's "Lives," a book which had done much to +influence many revolutionaries; but he could not read with any +understanding. To-day there was so much to be done, so many things to +think of. There were his own affairs, and they must take first place, +but in Paris the excitement would be at fever pitch to-day. Louis Capet +was to die, the voting had decided; but when? There was to be more +voting, and Raymond Latour must take his part in it. It was no wonder +that he could not read.</p> + +<p>The hours had dragged through the night, yet when a knock came at his +door, it seemed to him that he had had little time to mature his plans, +that it was only a very little while since he had carried the woman up +the stairs. He opened the door quickly.</p> + +<p>"The citizeness is awake and dressed. She is anxious to see you."</p> + +<p>"What have you told her?"</p> + +<p>"Only that the man who brought her last night would come and explain."</p> + +<p>"I will go to her."</p> + +<p>But Latour did not go immediately. He must have a few moments for +thought, and he paced his room excitedly, pausing more than once to look +at himself in a little mirror which hung upon the wall. His followers +would hardly have recognized in him the calm, calculating man with whom +they were accustomed to deal. It was with a great effort that he +steadied his nerves and went quietly up the stairs.</p> + +<p>Jeanne rose from her chair as he entered, but Latour could not know how +her heart beat as the door opened. She looked at him steadily, +inquiringly, waiting for him to speak.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle has slept, I trust?"</p> + +<p>It seemed to Latour that he looked at her for a long time without +speaking, such a whirl of thoughts swept through his brain as he entered +the room and saw the woman standing there. He remembered the other woman +who had occupied this apartment until he had let her go two or three +days since. He had hated her for being there. This room had not been +fashioned with such infinite care for such a woman as Pauline Vaison, +but for this very woman who now stood before him. How strangely natural +it seemed that she should be there! This was the moment which had been +constantly in his dreams waking and sleeping.</p> + +<p>"I do not know you," she said. "Why am I here? Indeed, where am I?"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I have come to explain. It is a long explanation, and +you must bear with me a little."</p> + +<p>"Tell me first, where is Monsieur Barrington?" said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"In safety. You have my word for it."</p> + +<p>"Whose word?"</p> + +<p>"You shall have the whole story, mademoiselle, and you shall presently +see Monsieur Barrington."</p> + +<p>Jeanne sat down, and Raymond Latour moved to the window and stood there.</p> + +<p>"I must begin in the middle of my story," he said, "it is easier for me, +and you will understand better. On the day of your arrival in Paris, I +met Monsieur Barrington. He was watching a coach which contained a +prisoner who was being escorted by a crowd of patriots to the Abbaye +prison. The sight was new to him; I believe that, single-handed, he +would have made an attempt at a rescue, had I not touched his arm. I +knew who he was, and that he had helped you into Paris. A little later +it was said that you had been arrested in the house of Lucien Bruslart, +and Monsieur Barrington came to me. We both concluded that you were the +prisoner in that coach. I believed Barrington to be an honest man, and I +rescued the prisoner from the Abbaye, and brought her here, only to find +that she was one Pauline Vaison, a woman Bruslart was to marry. +Bruslart, however, had made no effort to save her. He had apparently +sacrificed her to help you, and Barrington had helped him."</p> + +<p>"It might appear so, monsieur, but such was not the case," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"My opinion of Monsieur Barrington is at present in the balance," said +Latour; "Lucien Bruslart I know to be a scoundrel. The release of +Pauline Vaison naturally frightened Bruslart, who has gone into hiding +and is not to be found. Barrington is not a coward, and it was easy to +secure him. I saved him from the mob, but I kept him a prisoner. I +challenged him with his treachery to me, and he denied it, yet +immediately I let him go and had him watched, he straightway found you +at the house of Dr. Legrand in the Rue Charonne. Watching him and his +servant it was discovered that you were to be rescued from Legrand's +house, with the result that you are here."</p> + +<p>"In the hands of Monsieur Raymond Latour," said Jeanne, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, mademoiselle, though I am surprised that you know me. Monsieur +Barrington is also in my hands."</p> + +<p>"Most of this story I already know from Monsieur Barrington," she +returned. "If you will believe my word, I can show you that he was not +in Lucien Bruslart's confidence at all, that Lucien Bruslart from the +first deceived him. If you know anything of me, you must realize that it +is not easy to speak of Monsieur Bruslart in this way."</p> + +<p>"I know all about you, mademoiselle," Latour answered slowly.</p> + +<p>"And hate me. I have heard of Raymond Latour as a hater of aristocrats. +I cannot understand, therefore, why you undertook my rescue from +prison."</p> + +<p>"Because you do not know all about me," he said "It is true I am a +republican, a hater of aristocrats. Mademoiselle, you have been good to +the poor in Paris, you are one of the few who have cared anything for +them. Had you not fled, had you not become an emigré, I believe you +could have walked the streets of the city in perfect safety. If for a +moment you will put aside your class prejudice, you must know that the +people have the right with them. They have been ground down, trampled on +for generations, now they have struggled to freedom. If they push that +freedom to excess, can you honestly be astonished? They are but +retaliating for the load of cruelty which has been pressed upon them."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I am no politician. Many dear friends of mine have been +foully murdered. I look for no better fate for myself."</p> + +<p>"I was rather trying to explain my position," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"You do not explain your peculiar interest in me."</p> + +<p>"You hardly give me time, mademoiselle," he returned with a faint smile. +"Still, you can appreciate that my sympathies are with the people. That +is not the entire truth, however. I had ambition, and the revolution was +my opportunity. A strong man might grasp power, and I would be that +strong man."</p> + +<p>"Are there not many others in the Convention with similar ambition?"</p> + +<p>"I think not. Whatever power I might obtain was not for my own glory, +but was to be laid at the feet of a woman. Mademoiselle does not +remember, perhaps, a certain day some three or four years since, when +the horses attached to her coach took fright and ran away. They might +have been stopped by the coachman, but they appeared to have got the +better of him. It seemed to a man standing there, a poor student, that +the occupant of that coach was in danger. He rushed forward, and with +some difficulty stopped the horses."</p> + +<p>"I remember it perfectly," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, that poor student had in that hour seen a vision from +heaven, a woman so beautiful, so far beyond all other women, that he +worshiped her. He wandered the streets of Paris only to catch a glimpse +of her. He enthroned her on the altar of his soul, and bowed down to +her. It was a hopeless passion, yet its hopelessness had no power to +kill it, rather it grew each day, took stronger possession of his dreams +each night, until, reaching forward, he conceived the possibility of +winning what his soul desired. That poor student was Raymond Latour. You +see, mademoiselle, when you think of me as a red republican, you hardly +do me full justice."</p> + +<p>Jeanne did not answer. What possible answer was there to such a +confession as this?</p> + +<p>"Deputy Latour became a power," he went on quietly. "Many things became +possible. Mademoiselle had a lover, Lucien Bruslart, a villain, a liar +to her and his country. Raymond Latour, with all his faults, was a +better man than he, more honest, more worthy a woman's regard, no matter +who that woman might be."</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment, but still she found no words to answer him.</p> + +<p>"This Bruslart for some purpose of his own sent for mademoiselle to come +to Paris. I discovered that he had done so. It was an opportunity to +show you what sort of a man he was whom you loved. I should have balked +his intention and brought you here, had it not been for the bungling of +those who served me, and the courage of this man Barrington who has +played Bruslart's game for him."</p> + +<p>"Unwittingly," said Jeanne. "I grant that Lucien Bruslart is not a +worthy man; you must not class the other with him." In a few words +Jeanne told him how she had written the letter, how Richard Barrington +came to know where she was hidden.</p> + +<p>"Is it not a further proof against Bruslart? And to me there is still no +actual proof of Barrington's honor," Latour went on quickly, as though +he were afraid something would happen to prevent his speaking. "Listen, +mademoiselle, this room was prepared for you long before you came, a +safe retreat. Would any one think of seeking an aristocrat close to a +hater of aristocrats? I have thought of everything, planned everything. +The power I have I lay at your feet, now, at this moment. At your word I +will become anything you wish. Without you, without the hope of you, +nothing is of value to me. With you, there is nothing in the world +impossible. France is not the only land. Paris is not the world. There +are fairer places on God's earth where men and women may live at peace. +I have papers which shall make it easy for us to pass the barriers, +which shall bring us safely to the sea. I worship you, words can tell +you nothing of that worship, you shall learn it day by day, hour by +hour, you shall guide me as you will. You—"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, monsieur! what are you saying? How can I answer such +madness?"</p> + +<p>"By coming with me, gift for gift, love for love. Somewhere I will so +labor that my wife shall know the depth of my reverence, the greatness +of my love."</p> + +<p>"I have no answer, monsieur, for such folly."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, but you will have. A man does not play for such stakes as I +have played for, win them, and then throw them away."</p> + +<p>"If I understand your folly rightly, you have not won. I could +pity—were there not a tone of threatening in your voice. To love you +is, and always will be, impossible."</p> + +<p>"Has mademoiselle considered all that such a decision means?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing worse that you can do than denounce me to the +Convention," said Jeanne, standing up, and looking straight into his +eyes. "I expect nothing less and have no fear. You will have the +satisfaction of knowing that you have sent another innocent person to +the guillotine."</p> + +<p>"There is another mademoiselle might wish to save. I have said Monsieur +Barrington is in my hands."</p> + +<p>"I have never seen fear in Richard Barrington. I do not think he would +be afraid of the guillotine."</p> + +<p>"You love him," said Latour, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Yes;" and then she went on passionately, "Have you revolutionaries not +yet learned that death is but a passing evil, and that there are men and +women who do not fear death? I love Richard Barrington; his death or +mine cannot alter that, and do you suppose I would purchase life by a +promise to you or any other man in the world?"</p> + +<p>"Yet he shall plead my cause for me. For himself he may not be a coward, +but for the woman he loves he will be. He would rather see you in my +arms than send you to the guillotine."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, the decision rests wholly with me. Richard Barrington has +already risked his life for me; if necessary, he will give it for me, +and he would rather see me dead than give any promise to a man I +despise. You cannot understand such men."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I too, risked my life in bringing out of the Abbaye +prison the woman I believed was you."</p> + +<p>"For that I thank you," she said quickly. "It is strange to me that the +same man can stoop to threaten me now."</p> + +<p>"You will understand if you think of all I have told you," said Latour, +moving to the door. "You are safe for a little while. Your lover shall +plead for me. He is a man, and will know what a man's love is."</p> + +<p>Jeanne turned to the window. There was nothing more to be said.</p> + +<p>Latour went slowly down to his room. All his excitement had vanished. He +was calm and calculating again, a man in a dangerous mood; yet Jeanne's +words were still in his ears. "I love Richard Barrington; his death or +mine cannot alter that." What had he expected from this interview? He +hardly knew. He had declared that his game was won, but it was not the +game he had schemed to play. It was to have been his love against Lucien +Bruslart's. To plead that would have been easy, and surely the woman +must have listened, yes, and recognized the true from the false. This +cursed American had altered the game; still, he was a man, a man of his +word. He had promised to plead for him. He should do it.</p> + +<p>Raymond Latour passed out presently into the Rue Valette and went in the +direction of the Tuileries. There was public business he must do. Paris +was clamorous and dangerous. The mob cried out to Deputy Latour as he +passed, telling him how to vote, but he took no notice, never even +turning his head. He was not thinking of a king, but of the woman he +loved.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXV'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>A DEBT IS PAID</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Dr. Legrand slept late on this Saturday morning; his dreams had been +pleasant, and he hastily descended to his study, his face beaming, his +body tingling with excitement. The regret which he had expressed last +night, and really felt in his own limited fashion, was gone; how could +he feel regret when in a short hour or two he was destined to handle so +much money?</p> + +<p>As he went to his study a servant stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, monsieur, we have only just discovered, but Mademoiselle St. +Clair—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; what about her?"</p> + +<p>"Gone, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"Gone!"</p> + +<p>The doctor staggered back against the wall, his face working in a sudden +convulsion. It was as though the servant had struck him a heavy blow +between the eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, monsieur. Her bed has not been slept in. The Marquis de Castellux +is not to be found either. We have inquired among the guests. No one has +seen them since they left the salon last night."</p> + +<p>No articulate word came from Legrand, only a growl like that of an angry +animal. He rushed to mademoiselle's room, then to the one Monsieur de +Castellux had occupied temporarily. In a few moments the house was being +searched from cellar to garret, every room was entered, whether the +guests expostulated or not, but there was no sign of the fugitives, nor +anything to show how they had gone. No one noticed that the window at +the end of the passage had been unfastened.</p> + +<p>A little later Dr. Legrand hurried along the Rue Charonne, caring +nothing that people looked after him. He was a doctor of lunatics, they +said, possibly he had gone mad himself. They laughed and took no further +notice of him. He traversed several streets in the Faubourg St. Antoine, +evidently familiar ground to him, and presently entered a tumbledown +tenement. Going hastily to the top floor, he knocked with his knuckles +at a closed door, two low, single knocks, and a double one. It was +evidently a signal, for the door was opened at once and Lucien Bruslart +stood before him.</p> + +<p>"So soon!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Legrand entered, pushing Bruslart back into the room, and shut the door.</p> + +<p>"She's gone! Escaped! Last night!"</p> + +<p>Bruslart showed no sign of surprise. He sat on the edge of the table and +waited for more information. Legrand had no more to give. In his hurried +journey from the Rue Charonne he had thought of many things, and now +made no mention of the fact that another of his guests had also +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"How did she manage to escape out of your clutches?" asked Bruslart, +after a pause.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, and does it matter? She is gone, that is enough."</p> + +<p>"Bad for you, Legrand. She will explain how she came to be in your +house, and your friends will be asking why you took any one they did not +send to you. An awkward question, Legrand."</p> + +<p>"I shall easily answer that. The difficulty is for you, my friend. How +will you explain your dealings with an aristocrat for whom all Paris is +hunting?"</p> + +<p>"More easily perhaps than you imagine."</p> + +<p>"You cannot, you cannot. I am the only man who can help you."</p> + +<p>"Your help does not seem very effectual, does it?" said Bruslart. "You +were to have come this morning with certain papers assuring me that a +certain troublesome person was in the hands of the authorities, and in +return you were to receive a certain fee. Well, you have no papers, +therefore you get no fee."</p> + +<p>"But what will you do?"</p> + +<p>"Wait here. I have been safe so far."</p> + +<p>"It is impossible," said Legrand. "I shall be asked questions, I shall +have to answer them. I know Citizen Bruslart as a good patriot. He +brings me a lady to take charge of. What could I do but obey? I shall be +asked where Citizen Bruslart is now."</p> + +<p>"I see you contemplate betraying me, is that it?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, but I must answer questions."</p> + +<p>"How do you propose to help betraying me then?" Bruslart asked.</p> + +<p>"Now you are sensible. We must work together, is it not so? Paris is +dangerous for you. You are a rich man and the place for you is across +the frontier. A friend of mine, a good citizen, has for days been ready +to travel at a moment's notice, and will take a servant with him. He has +papers that cannot be questioned for himself and for you, his servant. +He goes by way of Metz and then to Valenciennes. You will slip across +the frontier into Belgium. You have heard of the inn, on that road, La +Houlette. Once there you may throw away your cockade and become again a +nobleman. It is your métier, my friend, you were never intended for a +patriot. And now that you have money what better could you wish for?"</p> + +<p>"It is an attractive programme, and I am a little tired of this +cockloft," answered Bruslart. "How is it to be managed?"</p> + +<p>"In an hour I will be back with all that is necessary to alter your +dress and appearance. In two hours you may commence your journey."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my good Legrand, I shall expect you in an hour."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the money," said the doctor. "I run a risk, and my friend must +also be paid."</p> + +<p>"Anything that is reasonable."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is reasonable."</p> + +<p>"What is the figure?" Bruslart asked.</p> + +<p>"I think I can arrange everything if you give me the fee I was to have +had for the papers you expected me to bring this morning."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Legrand. That fee is nearly half of my fortune."</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle's fortune," corrected Legrand.</p> + +<p>The two men looked at each other, and understood each other well. +Bruslart knew that the doctor was quite prepared to betray him if he did +not come to his terms. Legrand knew that Bruslart was in dire straits, +and that once in the hands of the Convention his doom was sealed. In one +sense the doctor was the more honest of the two. He could do what he +said with every prospect of success, and was prepared to fulfill his +bargain to the letter. Bruslart was already planning how he could +overreach his companion.</p> + +<p>"It is a monstrous price to pay."</p> + +<p>"It saves you from the guillotine," answered Legrand.</p> + +<p>"Very well, I'll pay it," said Bruslart, after a moment's thought.</p> + +<p>"Quickly, then. I will go at once. Give me the money."</p> + +<p>"A bargain is a bargain, my good doctor, and I do not part with my money +until you have completed your work. I shall expect you in an hour."</p> + +<p>Legrand hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I cannot get away," said Bruslart, "but there is a possibility that you +might not return."</p> + +<p>"You are over careful," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"I have my head to consider," Bruslart laughed. "No man pays the doctor +before he has taken his physic."</p> + +<p>The doctor laughed too, it was the only way to deal with such a man, and +departed. Bruslart could not escape him. The money was already as good +as in his hands. Bruslart once out of Paris, Legrand could answer any +question the officers of the Convention might put to him. He had done as +Citizen Bruslart had commanded him, what else could he have done? +Monsieur Fouquier-Tinville and others could not say much, they were too +interested in his establishment. Besides, although mademoiselle had +escaped from his house, it was most unlikely that she could leave Paris. +She would be found.</p> + +<p>Bruslart locked his door when the doctor had gone. Before the doctor he +had shown no anger, no agitation, but alone, he was like an animal +caught in a trap. For this money he had schemed, lied, and betrayed an +innocent woman; he had just enough conscience to hate the remembrance of +all he had done, and now half the reward of his treachery was to be +filched from him. For a moment he was tempted to go before Legrand +returned, but he was afraid. Legrand had the whip hand of him. Could he +cheat him? The opportunity might come at the last moment. How could it +be done?</p> + +<p>He was deep in a dozen plans which came in a chaotic confusion into his +mind, when there was a knock at the door, two low, single knocks +followed a double one, Legrand's signal. An hour had not passed. Legrand +had returned quickly. What had happened? He opened the door, then +started back.</p> + +<p>"Pauline!"</p> + +<p>For a moment she stood on the threshold apparently with some feeling for +the dramatic effect in her attitude, then she entered and closed the +door.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Pauline," she said.</p> + +<p>Bruslart had been taken unawares; he had unfortunately allowed the woman +to see his surprise, and cursed his folly as he regained his equanimity +with an effort.</p> + +<p>"You are welcome, Pauline, as welcome as—"</p> + +<p>"As the devil," she answered. "No, I want to do the talking. You sit +down and listen."</p> + +<p>"Nothing will please me better," Bruslart returned, smiling. "I have +been forced to go into hiding, and have lost touch with events."</p> + +<p>"And I have been in prison."</p> + +<p>"In prison! You!"</p> + +<p>"Strange, isn't it? I dare say the story will interest you, but there +are other things to talk of first. What has forced you into hiding?"</p> + +<p>"Circumstances and Raymond Latour," he answered.</p> + +<p>"And why should you keep your hiding-place a secret from me?"</p> + +<p>"I will explain. It is rather a long story, and—"</p> + +<p>"And I do not want to hear it," she said. "I know. It is not a pretty +story. To save one woman you sacrifice another, and in the end are false +to both."</p> + +<p>"What nonsense have you been told, Pauline?"</p> + +<p>"I have been told very little, perhaps only know part of the tale even +now, but it is sufficient. I only found out your hiding-place on +Wednesday night. On Thursday and Friday, Citizen Legrand was with you. +By your contriving Mademoiselle St. Clair was in hiding. A large part of +her money was in your hands, and she was in your way, so Legrand was +instructed to send word to the Convention that one Richard Barrington, +an American, had contrived by false representation to place her in +Legrand's house for safety, and the doctor, suddenly discovering the +falsehood, was to prove himself a good patriot and give her up. So +Lucien Bruslart, by paying the doctor, was to get rid of a troublesome +woman and retire to Belgium."</p> + +<p>"I do not know who can have told you such a story."</p> + +<p>"There are many spies in Paris," she answered with a short laugh. "But +that is not all the tale. Yesterday you were very confidential with +Citizen Legrand. You told him of another woman who was in love with you, +and was troublesome, or would be if she knew where to find you. You had +promised to marry her, a promise to the pretty fool which you did not +intend to keep. It amused you to think how furious Pauline Vaison would +be when she found out you had gone."</p> + +<p>"So that devil Legrand has been talking, has he?"</p> + +<p>"Poor Lucien! Do you imagine you are the only scoundrel in Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Scoundrel! Why, you pretty fool—it is your own expression, so let me +use it—do you imagine I should tell the truth to Legrand? His own +cupidity ruins him. Half the tale is true, the other half—why, Pauline, +is it not the very scheme I told you of? I had hoped to rise to power in +Paris; that I cannot do, but I have the money, and Pauline Vaison will +join me across the Belgian frontier."</p> + +<p>"You only have half the money, Lucien, Legrand is to have the other +half. It is his little fee."</p> + +<p>"Now you have come we may cheat him," said Bruslart, quickly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a very excellent plan, but it won't work, my friend. I had none of +this story from Legrand. Your money holds him faithful. He will be back +in an hour, and in two hours you may perhaps be out of Paris."</p> + +<p>Bruslart looked at her, realizing the full extent of his danger for the +first time.</p> + +<p>"That is an awkward riddle for you to read, isn't it?" she said. "It is +an unpleasant position, as unpleasant as mine when they arrested me in +the place of Mademoiselle St. Clair, and my lover took no steps to set +the mistake right; as unpleasant as when my escape from the Abbaye +forced you to hide from me. That is why you ran away, Lucien. You were +afraid of me. Now I have found you, and mademoiselle has really escaped +out of your clutches. It is a very awkward position, Lucien. I do not +see how you are going to wriggle out of it."</p> + +<p>"The way is plain, let us arrange everything before Legrand returns," +said Bruslart.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to arrange. This little cockloft does not fill the +whole of this upper story. There is another attic on the other side of +that partition, with a cupboard in it. Standing in the cupboard, with +the ear against the woodwork, one can hear all that is said here, and if +you look in that partition you will find a crack, through which nearly +the whole of this place can be seen. You may take my word for it, I have +lived on the other side since Wednesday night. Your own servant betrayed +your hiding-place to me, for a ridiculously small sum. Your worth is not +great even in his eyes."</p> + +<p>"Be sensible, Pauline. I will—"</p> + +<p>"Pay me for secrecy? Will you give me the other half of mademoiselle's +money?"</p> + +<p>"I said, be sensible. Come with me, join me on the road to the frontier. +It is what I have intended all along."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!"</p> + +<p>The woman was suddenly alive with passion—dangerous, and Bruslart knew +it.</p> + +<p>"You are not polite," he said.</p> + +<p>"I am better than that; I am honest."</p> + +<p>"Be sensible as well. The time is short. Sit down and let us arrange +quickly."</p> + +<p>"I have told you, there is nothing to arrange," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Once for all, will you come? Yes or no," he said angrily.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Pay, Lucien, pay. Legrand will return, but he will not find you."</p> + +<p>"You she-devil!"</p> + +<p>The words were hissed out as he sprang toward her. It was his life or +hers. There was no other alternative. Murder was in his hands, in his +soul. She realized this and even as he touched her, she cried out—</p> + +<p>"Help! Help, citizens!"</p> + +<p>In a moment the door was thrown open and Lucien Bruslart was in the +hands of the officers of the Convention, crouching in their grasp, white +and afraid, too terrified even to curse his betrayer.</p> + +<p>"The payment, Lucien! I warned you. I keep my promise. For you it is the +Place de la Revolution—the guillotine."</p> + +<p>The words were shouted at him savagely, and then she leaned back against +the wall in a paroxysm of horrible laughter.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVI'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>ENEMIES OR FRIENDS</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>To the individual, his affairs, petty though they be, are often of more +moment than those greater doings which have a whole world for stage and +are destined to throw an echo far down the corridors of Time. Most of us +live in a narrow little world, a very mean little world often, and are +never able to mount up a step or two to see how exceedingly mean and +narrow it is. Yet, for all this, the workings of the greater world do +affect us, though we may be unconscious of the fact; our little affairs +are influenced in greater or less degree, as the rippled circles from a +stone's cast spread to the shores of the pond.</p> + +<p>Balked greed and craven fear tore at Legrand's very soul when he +returned to the cockloft in the Faubourg St. Antoine and found it empty. +After all he was not to handle the money. He felt like an honest man who +has been cheated, so far was he able to deceive himself. Bruslart had +outwitted him, would perhaps succeed in leaving Paris, and a terrible +lust to get equal with him seized upon the doctor. The chance words of +two men talking in the street told him the truth, and then fear took the +place of greed. There was no knowing what Bruslart might say. The +temper of the Convention was uncertain. He might be arrested too, or +perchance plundered of his gains. For a few moments he was doubtful +whether it would be safe to go home, and then, driven by that desperate +desire to know the worst which so often makes a coward seem courageous, +he hastened in the direction of the Rue Charonne, and was in his study +when the officers of the Convention arrived to remove Jeanne St. Clair. +Legrand had communicated with the authorities, but somewhat vaguely. He +declared that it was evident that he had been deceived, that the +ci-devant aristocrat ought never to have been placed under his care, but +he had not definitely stated an opinion that the American, Richard +Barrington, was responsible. It was difficult for Legrand to make a +straightforward statement at any time, and that he had not done so on +this occasion might prove useful now that Lucien Bruslart was arrested. +He was therefore prepared to wriggle out of his awkward position. +Mademoiselle had managed to get out of his house, how he could not tell, +but she could not have left Paris. An immediate and diligent search must +result in her capture.</p> + +<p>Strange to say the awkward questions were not asked, nor was an +immediate search instituted. For the moment, at any rate, Jeanne St. +Clair was of small account, another name was in everybody's mouth, +another personality was forced into tragic prominence, and the hundreds +of deputies on whose word so much depended had no time or inclination to +think of any one else.</p> + +<p>Wednesday and Thursday, which were marked days for Jeanne St. Clair, +were stupendous days for Paris, for France, for the world. The fate of +Louis Capet, once king, was sealed in them. He must die. By the vote of +the deputies this was decided. His crime? Who shall say. Chiefly perhaps +that he was born to be a king, and lived, a weak king, in a strenuous +time. And yet the business was not at an end. Some would have an appeal +made to the people, a proposition easily overruled; some would have +delay, and that was not so easily settled. There must be more voting. So +on this Saturday and Sunday the deputies were busy, and Paris vibrated +with excitement. Raymond Latour now voted for delay, as before he had +voted against the death sentence, firm to his conviction that the head +of a king was not necessary to the safety of France. Patriots hissed at +him and at many others. Robespierre noted the set of his face and +thought of the future; others noted that set face and thought of the +future, too. Was Raymond Latour as strong a man as some declared? Was he +safest as a friend or as an enemy? Once more the votes were counted. +Louis Capet must die, that fact remained unaltered, but there was added +something more to the sentence, he must die within twenty-four hours. It +was a merciful addition perchance, though not so intended; the shorter +the time, the less the suffering. Patriotic Paris flung its red cap into +the air, rejoicing greatly. Less than twenty-four hours to wait for the +greatest amusement that had yet been vouchsafed to the mob. There was no +time to sleep, no reason in sleep. Armed men would keep the streets +to-morrow, but there would be vantage places to be struggled for and +kept through long hours of waiting—yet not so long after all. Monday +morning came quickly—ten o'clock—one carriage and its guard. The last +ride of a king! The bitter mockery of fate sounded to-day for the Deep +Purple of an empire—and France laughed. Revenge, too, perchance +smiled, for the passage of that lone coach left its trail of dead and +wounded. Slowly he mounted into view of his people, and a heart here and +there may have pitied him. He would speak. Surely in this last hour he +may say a word; the words of a man at such a moment, be he king or +peasant, may perchance have a strange meaning and appeal in them; and +also they may be dangerous. Yes, he will speak. He is innocent, that +much was heard, and then another spoke, a word of command, and there was +the loud rolling of the drums. Nothing could be heard above the beating +of those drums. It was difficult even to see through the forest of +bayonets which surrounded the scaffold. It looked like a moment's +struggle between executioners and hand-tied victim, an unequal contest. +Still the drums—then the sound of the heavy falling knife. Then +silence, and Samson, chief priest of the guillotine, holding the head +high, at arm's length, that all may see it and know that tyranny is at +an end, that France is free. Patriotism, armed and otherwise, went mad +with delight. This was a gala day! Sing, dance, drink in it! Such a day +was never known in Paris before!</p> + +<center> +<img src='images/3.jpg' width='433' height='600' alt='Paris flung its red cap in the air and France laughed.' title='Paris flung its red cap in the air and France laughed.'> +</center> + +<p>It was no wonder that Jeanne was forgotten, that Dr. Legrand was not +called upon to answer awkward questions. It was not remarkable that the +alleys and byways of Paris were deserted for the wider streets and +places where patriots could rejoice together, and that many who were in +hiding should be free for a day or two from the alarms which almost +hourly beset them.</p> + +<p>Richard Barrington had remained untroubled for many hours. As he fought +in the empty house, struggling against a crowd which seemed to press in +upon him from every side, and out of which looked familiar faces, his +brain had played him a trick he thought he was fleeing from his enemies, +jumping into darkness for safety. There had followed a period of total +unconsciousness, set in the midst of a continuous dream as it were, for +he seemed to realize at once without any break that he had fallen upon a +bed of straw and could safely lie there to rest his tired limbs. There +was no recollection of Legrand's asylum, or of the night escape over the +roofs, but presently there came a conviction that he ought to be with +Jeanne. It seemed to him that he tried to get out of the straw but was +unable to do so. It had so twined about his body and limbs that he was +bound by it as if with ropes. He must rest a little longer until he had +more strength to break his bonds. Then again, faces looked at him, faces +he ought to know, yet could not remember. There were low voices about +him. He was thirsty, and in his struggles to free himself from the +straw, chance guided his hand to a cup. Cool liquid was in it, water or +wine, he could not tell which, but he drank eagerly and lay still again +for a long time. Presently his strength was certainly returning, for +without any great effort he drew his hands free from the binding straw +and raised himself. A faint light was about him, showing stone walls, a +narrow room, in a corner of which he was lying. On the floor beside him +was a cup, a wine bottle, and a piece of bread. He picked up the bread +and almost mechanically bit a piece out of it. He found that he was +hungry. There was wine in the bottle and he drank. The straw no longer +bound him, and he rose slowly to his feet and stared about him. Then, +like waters suddenly breaking down a dam and flowing again into their +old channel, memory reasserted itself and his brain grew clear. He +recollected the empty house, the sudden movement on the stars, the +fight, Jeanne standing behind him in the corner. What had happened? +Where was she? Where was Seth? He knew where he was. The chair and +table, the bowl and water can, the straw bed, the stone walls and the +high grating—he was again in that buried cell of the old monastery.</p> + +<p>"My head is heavy," he said aloud. "I must have been hurt and been +delirious. For how long, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>He began to move slowly about the cell. It was daylight, whether morning +or afternoon he could not tell. He was not meant to die yet, or the wine +and the bread would not be there, yet why was he in this place instead +of an ordinary prison? His limbs were stiff, his head ached, it was +difficult to think clearly. He could not detach reality from dreams. +What had happened in that empty house? Where was Jeanne? He threw +himself upon the straw bed again, intending to lie there and try to +solve the problem, but he fell asleep.</p> + +<p>He was roused suddenly. A man was bending over him, had probably touched +him. It was Raymond Latour. For a moment or two Barrington was uncertain +whether this was a dream or reality.</p> + +<p>"So you're awake at last," said Latour.</p> + +<p>Barrington rose slowly to his feet, and then sat down in the chair by +the table.</p> + +<p>"What day is it?"</p> + +<p>"Monday—Monday afternoon."</p> + +<p>Barrington appeared to make a calculation.</p> + +<p>"Monday!" he said. "Then I have been here—"</p> + +<p>"Since early on Saturday morning," said Latour. "You were knocked about +a bit in that empty house, and you've been in a more or less unconscious +condition ever since. Have you your wits now? I have something important +to say to you."</p> + +<p>"Then you know about that empty house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You arranged the—"</p> + +<p>"Your capture—yes."</p> + +<p>Barrington rose to his feet quickly, but stumbled a little as he did so.</p> + +<p>"Now you must settle with me," he said.</p> + +<p>"You're not strong enough yet," said Latour, easily catching the arm +which aimed a feeble blow at him. "Mademoiselle St. Clair is safe. She +is not in prison. Your man is safe. You, too, are safe for the present. +You had better listen to all I have to say."</p> + +<p>Barrington sat down again, frowning at his impotence. He had not +realized how weak he was.</p> + +<p>"I let you out of this place believing you a liar, and had you watched," +said Latour. "I still believed you a liar when I found that you knew +mademoiselle was in Legrand's house in the Rue Charonne. Your man was +watched too, and his preparations in that empty house understood. You +know the result. I have it from mademoiselle's own lips that you are not +a liar, that you are not in league with Lucien Bruslart, and I believe +her."</p> + +<p>"Where is she?"</p> + +<p>"Safe in my keeping."</p> + +<p>Barrington did not answer for a moment. Then he said slowly, "She is the +aristocrat in whom you are interested?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then it is you who have lied?"</p> + +<p>"I deceived you, yes. Be a man, Barrington; look at this thing with the +eyes of a man. What reason was there that I should trust you with such a +secret? I had set myself a goal to win, why should I jeopardize my +chances? Bruslart was the man she loved, not you."</p> + +<p>"They say all is fair in love," said Barrington. "Go on, Latour, go on. +I suppose you have come to bargain with me. My arm may be weak, but my +head grows clearer every minute."</p> + +<p>"I want you to fulfill your promise. You owe me something. You said you +would do your utmost to help me with the woman I loved. I know now that +I could have no more powerful advocate."</p> + +<p>"I cannot admit the debt," was the answer. "What do I owe you?"</p> + +<p>"Your life once, perhaps twice, and again now. It is mine to save or +destroy. A word from me and you change this place for a prison and the +guillotine."</p> + +<p>"I set no value on my life," Barrington answered.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne St. Clair's life is in my hands, too," said Latour, slowly. "You +would do something to save her?"</p> + +<p>"Anything in the world. Save her, Latour, and though you send me to the +gallows I will bless you."</p> + +<p>Latour bit his lip a little. He wanted to hate this man who had come +between him and his desires. He was convinced that he had done so, +convinced that but for this American, Jeanne St. Clair would have +listened to him. His worth against Bruslart's infamy must have appealed +to her, had this man not come into her world.</p> + +<p>"I know the truth," he said slowly, "I have had it from mademoiselle +herself. I spoke of my love, as a man must speak when the whole passion +of his life is let loose. She could never love me, she said. Why? +Because she loves you. I have threatened her to no purpose. I threatened +to sacrifice you unless she consented. It was of no avail. She swore +that you did not fear death, that you would willingly die for her."</p> + +<p>"She spoke only the truth," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Yet you can save her," Latour returned. "You are the only man who can. +You shall go to her and plead with her for me. For her sake I will +desert France, go anywhere, do anything she wills. She must be mine or, +for God's sake, do not make me even whisper the alternative."</p> + +<p>"Be honest. Let me know the alternative."</p> + +<p>"She shall die. There you have it. You may make your choice."</p> + +<p>"And I thought you loved her," said Barrington, slowly.</p> + +<p>"I cannot bandy phrases with you," Latour answered passionately. "You +are a man as I am, there is something in us that is alike, I think. +Debate such questions with yourself and you will find an answer."</p> + +<p>"I have said that I am willing to die for her," answered Barrington.</p> + +<p>"Go a step further than that," returned Latour. "Help another man to +possess her."</p> + +<p>"You are not prepared to make that sacrifice," said Barrington. "She +must be yours or she must die. I thought Raymond Latour was too good a +man for such villainy."</p> + +<p>"Phrases! phrases! I want none of them. I want your help, the help you +promised. I fulfilled my part of the bargain, although it was not +mademoiselle I rescued; I expect you to fulfill yours."</p> + +<p>"In this thing she must choose, Latour. My love is such that to make her +happy I would willingly sacrifice myself were it to die for her, or +harder still, live out my life away from her, forgotten by her. If it is +only the thought of me which holds her back from what may bring her +peace and satisfaction, I will pass out of her life and she shall never +know the great sorrow at my heart. I will not hold her to any promise +she has made to me. She shall be free to choose, and I will not let a +hard thought of her enter my soul."</p> + +<p>While Barrington was speaking, Latour had paced the cell slowly. Now he +stopped on the other side of the little table.</p> + +<p>"You will do no more?"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing more I can do."</p> + +<p>"You have thought of the consequences. You have considered my influence, +the power I have to save or to kill you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't thought much of that. It doesn't seem to matter."</p> + +<p>"You laugh at me."</p> + +<p>"That is unworthy of you," Barrington answered. "We are two men in a +tight place, and such men do not laugh at each other. Once you said +that, should we prove to be enemies, it might help us to remember that +we had clasped hands over our wine. Well, is not this the hour to +remember it?"</p> + +<p>"One has to forget many things," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"True; and we come to a point when we understand how trivial are many of +these things we thought most important," said Barrington. "We are at the +mercy of the world's storms, and we shall surely travel ways we never +set out to travel. I came to France, Latour, burning to fight for an +oppressed people, burning to do something in this land like the Marquis +de Lafayette had done in America. His career there fired my youthful +ambition. I have done nothing. I come to this hour, facing you across +this little table—two men, enemies, yet for all that liking each other +a little, kindred somehow, and strangely bound together in that we both +love the same woman."</p> + +<p>Latour was silent for a few moments, the past, the present, and the +future, mingled in his brain in strange confusion.</p> + +<p>"Would you see her again?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>Barrington did not answer at once. "Let her decide," he said slowly. +"There would be heaven in such a meeting, but there would be hell, too."</p> + +<p>"There are tears in your eyes," said Latour.</p> + +<p>"Are there?" asked Barrington, simply. "Well, why not?"</p> + +<p>Latour turned away quickly. "I will think whether you can see her +again," he said. "It may be difficult. You are weak, I will tell them to +bring you food. You have seen Citizen Mercier, he is looking after you +here. If you are to see mademoiselle, he will tell you. You must do as +he suggests. She shall decide; I promise that."</p> + +<p>He went toward the door, then came back again.</p> + +<p>"If you see her will you speak of me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We can hardly help doing so."</p> + +<p>"She would believe you if you told her something of my love, of what I +have done."</p> + +<p>"I will set life and death before her, Latour, and leave her free to +choose."</p> + +<p>Latour moved again to the door and again came back.</p> + +<p>"Men who love as we do must be enemies, still the enmity may be free +from malice. Other conditions might well have made us friends. Will you +grasp hands once more, Barrington?"</p> + +<p>Across the little table their hands met, and were clasped firmly for a +moment as the two men looked into each other's eyes. Then Latour went +out quickly, locking the door behind him.</p> + +<p>An hour later he went slowly up the stairs to his rooms. Jacques +Sabatier was waiting for him.</p> + +<p>"Bad news, citizen," said Sabatier.</p> + +<p>Latour opened his door, and they entered.</p> + +<p>"It should be bad news indeed if one may judge by your face," he said.</p> + +<p>"Citizen Bruslart was arrested on Saturday. He is in the Conciergerie. +He demands that you see him to-night. He knows that mademoiselle has +escaped from the Rue Charonne, and he makes a shrewd guess where she is +hidden. You must see him, citizen; he is dangerous."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>A RIDE IN THE NIGHT</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Once again the dawn found Raymond Latour seated by the table. No book +lay open before him, he had not attempted to read. Last night he had +gone to the rooms above, taking Sabatier with him. Sabatier forgot to +swagger as he stood before Jeanne St. Clair, trying to look as steadily +at her as she did at him. Then Sabatier had gone with a promise on his +lips which he roundly swore to keep, and for a little while longer +Latour remained with Jeanne. His face was calm when he left her, but +Barrington might have retaliated and said there were tears in his eyes. +Perchance it was the cold wind on the stairs, for the night was bitter, +Latour wrapped himself in a thick coat when he went out, and turned his +steps in the direction of the Conciergerie. It was near midnight when he +returned home, but there was no sleep for him. So the dawn found him +seated by the table. Again he felt cold and made himself coffee, but he +was not excited. His plans were made. He was ready for the day and the +work there was to do in it.</p> + +<p>Yesterday the head of a king, a triumph surely to last for many days. +Patriots might rest a little now. But Robespierre thought otherwise as +he talked with Duplay, the cabinet maker, over the evening meal in the +Rue St. Honoré; great-voiced Danton knew that this was a beginning, not +an ending; and many other deputies were sure that having gone so far +they must go further. There were other heads to offer to the guillotine, +many others. The tumbrils must carry the daily food, and the stock of +such food must not be allowed to run short. Many were condemned already; +there were others waiting to be condemned; it would be well to get on +with the work expeditiously. Trials took time, though, truly, they need +not be long. There was one man waiting for whom nothing could be said. +The aristocrat, Lucien Bruslart, who had posed as an honest citizen, yet +had hidden an emigré in the city. Denounced by Citizeness Pauline +Vaison, who was declared with one consent to be a true patriot, what +hope could there be for him?</p> + +<p>Yet this man found a strange advocate, no less a person than Raymond +Latour. The prosecution was short and convincing; the president's bell +sounded with a sense of finality in it; the women in the gallery were +ready to jeer at the next prisoner; in this case of Bruslart there was +no excitement at all. Then Raymond Latour rose, and the loud murmur of +astonishment quickly fell into silence. They had often heard and +applauded Deputy Latour; what was he doing here? There was going to be +excitement after all.</p> + +<p>Raymond Latour was an orator, rough and passionate at times, yet seldom +failing to get into sympathy with his audience. He looked at the +white-faced, cringing prisoner, and he hated him, yet on his behalf he +spoke more eloquently than he had ever done before perhaps. A less +powerful advocate would not have been listened to. Latour's words were +hung upon and applauded at intervals. He could not deny the charges +brought against the prisoner; he was an aristocrat, he had helped an +emigré, but he was not the only aristocrat who had become a true and +worthy patriot. He had done many things which deserved acknowledgment. +His apartment had always been open to his fellows, he had helped many +with his money and his influence. Birth had made him an aristocrat, but +he had not fled from Paris; he had stayed to champion the people. That +surely was in his favor, seeing how powerful an incentive he had for +crossing the frontier—love. Of all the charges brought against him, +there was only one which counted—that he had helped an emigré. Citizens +might hiss, but ought they not first to understand who this emigré was? +She was, to begin with, an emigré against her will. She had been forced +to leave Paris by her friends, by the Marquise de Rovère. That was known +to many who listened to him. Mademoiselle St. Clair was known personally +to many. She had fed the hungry; she had cared for the poor. Had she +remained in Paris, not a hand would have been raised against her, and if +it had been, a thousand would have been raised in her defense. True, she +had become an emigré; true, she had entered Paris by stealth, and that +might require some explanation were he defending her, but he was only +speaking for the man who had hidden her. They must remember all the +circumstances. It was said that mademoiselle had heard that her lover +was in danger, and had returned to help him. Every woman would +appreciate her action, every woman who had loved; the prisoner finding +her in danger had hidden her, could not every lover understand his doing +so? Here was no conspiracy against the people but a romance, a tale of +lovers, which some poet might well make a song of for all true lovers +to sing. Certainly Lucien Bruslart was not deserving of death.</p> + +<p>There was applause when Latour finished, but many hisses. A woman's +voice cried out that it appeared as though Citizen Latour loved the +emigré himself, and laughter and a nodding of heads greeted the sally. A +man shouted that Deputy Latour had ceased to be a true patriot, or he +would never have spoken for such a prisoner. There was uproar, silenced +by the president's bell—a pause, then sentence:—Lucien Bruslart was +condemned. No eloquence in the world could have saved him.</p> + +<p>Raymond Latour found himself hustled as he left the building. It was +remembered that he had voted against the death of the king, that he had +been for delay. To-day had proved that he had sympathy for aristocrats +and emigrés. Yet he was Deputy Latour, powerful in the Convention, +powerful in many quarters of the city, a man who was only partially +understood and therefore dangerous. Robespierre, it was whispered, +feared him, and Danton had been heard to say that he was better as a +friend than an enemy. Even the firebrand Hébert had dared to say little +against him in his paper "Père Duchesne." Latour was keenly alive to the +angry storm which threatened, but this was not the moment to face it. A +few hours might turn storm to sunshine, or perchance increase the storm +to a veritable cyclone against which no man could stand. He passed into +the street and out of the crowd, his face firm set, unreadable. He +showed no sign of fear, he seemed curiously indifferent to man's opinion +of him. It was noted by some that he did not go in the direction of the +Rue Valette, and when he had passed out of sight they told one another +that there was a set purpose on the deputy's face. What purpose? He +hurried presently, choosing narrow and deserted streets, as a man who +carries a secret and does not wish to be seen.</p> + +<p>Barrington had roused from a night of dreamless sleep, refreshed, ready +for the new day which was already creeping into his cell. Would Jeanne +decide to see him once more? Yes, he was convinced she would. He was +glad to feel the new strength in him, for there must be no tears in his +eyes at that meeting, only brave words on his lips and strong +encouragement in his face. Surely that meeting would be to-day. Latour +would not delay. Yet, what did he mean when he said it might be +difficult?</p> + +<p>He asked no questions when Mercier brought his breakfast. It was +strange, after all that had happened, that he should trust Latour, yet +he did. He could not help doing so when they had grasped hands first in +the wine shop—how long ago that seemed!—he had done so yesterday when +they had gripped hands across this little table. He was a strange +mixture of good and evil, this Raymond Latour. What did he intend to do? +Would he sacrifice Jeanne rather than lose her?</p> + +<p>"I cannot guess," Barrington murmured to himself. "He probably thinks +that Jeanne will marry him rather than see me sent to the guillotine. It +is a hard test. How must I counsel her?"</p> + +<p>The light which came through the high grating gradually grew less. The +night was coming quickly. He was not to see Jeanne to-day, perhaps never +again. The bravery of the early hours passed from him and a chill of +despair was at his heart as he sat at the table, his face buried in his +hands.</p> + +<p>The room was dark when the door opened and Mercier entered.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, will you follow me?"</p> + +<p>Barrington sprang to his feet at once.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur will have been told by Citizen Latour that he is to do as I +direct."</p> + +<p>"I am so tired of these walls that a journey to the Place de la +Revolution would be almost welcome."</p> + +<p>Mercier carried a lantern, and, after locking the door of the cell, he +led Barrington by the same way that he and Seth had taken. They passed +through the trapdoor into the cellar, and from there into the passage of +the house.</p> + +<p>"This way," said Mercier, opening a door which gave on to a dark +alleyway covered in but apparently joining one house to another. +Barrington did not stop to ask himself questions, to consider whether it +was wise to trust this man. At the end of this alley Mercier opened +another door, and they entered a room barely furnished, and dimly +lighted. Two men rose quickly from seats beside a stove, and one came +forward with a glad cry.</p> + +<p>"Master Richard! Master Richard! I thought they'd been lying to me. I +thought you were dead. Thank God for the sight of your face again."</p> + +<p>Their hands clasped and were held tightly, as men who are comrades yet +do not speak of it much.</p> + +<p>"I've been lying in some cellar underneath here with the wits out of +me," said Seth. "Now we're to take a journey, though I cannot worm out +of these gentlemen where to. It doesn't matter much so long as we are +together."</p> + +<p>"A journey?" said Barrington, turning to Mercier.</p> + +<p>"That is so, monsieur."</p> + +<p>"It's strange that we four should be together again," said Seth. "They +were the Count and his friend when we drank a bottle of wine at +Beauvais."</p> + +<p>"Now Citizens Mercier and Dubois," said Mercier, putting down the +lantern. "And a bottle of wine will not harm us. It will keep the cold +night out. There's a bottle in the cupboard, Dubois."</p> + +<p>Dubois got it out and drew the cork with evident relish.</p> + +<p>"Remember the last, Master Richard," Seth whispered.</p> + +<p>Mercier could not have heard what he said, but he evidently remembered +the last occasion.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing in this to make one sleep heavily. Here's the proof," +and he filled a glass and drained it. "I've tasted better wine, but at +any rate it's harmless. Now for the other things, Dubois."</p> + +<p>Dubois brought from the cupboard coats, hats, tri-color cockades and +sashes, sabres and wigs, which he placed upon the table.</p> + +<p>"You will remember what Citizen Latour said, monsieur," said Mercier, +turning to Barrington. "You were to do as I directed. One false step and +your lives are forfeit, and mine, and Citizen Latour's too."</p> + +<p>"We go to—"</p> + +<p>"On a journey, monsieur, a dangerous one, but with a good end to it, I +hope. Let me help you to dress in this coat and wig."</p> + +<p>"I care not how I go, so that the journey leads me to—to my desire," +said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"That's the road we all try to travel," Dubois returned, as he helped +Seth fit his wig and tied the sash round him.</p> + +<p>"It's a long road and few reach the end of it," Seth remarked, "but +with a sword to hand I find my courage rising."</p> + +<p>"Let me touch your face with a little black from the stove," said +Mercier. "You are a little too pale, Monsieur Barrington."</p> + +<p>"It is no wonder. It seems an age since I felt the wind on my cheeks."</p> + +<p>"That is better," said Mercier, as with some skill he tinted +Barrington's face and then treated Seth in the same fashion. "Now +listen. You, Monsieur Barrington, are Citizen Roche, your man here is +Citizen Pinot. You are both officers of the Convention under the +leadership of Citizen Mercier, a trusted servant of the Convention. +Remember these names, Roche, Pinot;—think of no others. I have papers +with me in which you are so named. Leave the speaking to me. You are +glum fellows lusting only for the work you have been given to do."</p> + +<p>"But where do we go?" asked Barrington.</p> + +<p>"You must trust me, monsieur. I have my instructions from Citizen +Latour. It may be that I do not know the whole of his purpose. May I +trust you to follow my instructions to the letter? for truly, if you +presently ask questions and show curiosity, my head is as good as in +Madame Guillotine's basket."</p> + +<p>"You may trust me," Barrington answered.</p> + +<p>"Then we may go at once. Good night, Citizen Dubois."</p> + +<p>"Good night."</p> + +<p>Through a doorway they passed into a yard shut in by the backs of +houses, from which, high up, dim lights glimmered. Mercier led the way, +bidding them keep close to him, and presently turned into a shed—a +stable. Three horses were there ready saddled.</p> + +<p>"Mount, Pinot, mount, Roche. We ride toward the barrier and journey to +Versailles. We have urgent business that way."</p> + +<p>Barrington asked no question as he mounted. Mercier led the way out of +this yard, into a narrow, cobbled street, then into a wider street. +There were not many people abroad in this direction, and no one took +particular notice of them. They crossed the Seine, and it was evident +that Mercier chose his way carefully, avoiding certain streets for good +reasons, probably. They rode in silence. Even when they approached the +barrier Mercier gave no word of warning.</p> + +<p>They were challenged and stopped, all three reining in their horses on +the instant.</p> + +<p>"Business of the Convention at Versailles," said Mercier.</p> + +<p>"More heads, citizen?"</p> + +<p>"I judge so."</p> + +<p>"You are Citizen Mercier?" said the guard, holding up his lantern to +look at him.</p> + +<p>"Yes. This is Citizen Roche; this, Citizen Pinot."</p> + +<p>The man raised his lantern and looked into each face in turn.</p> + +<p>"Devilish poor traveling companions," whispered Mercier, leaning from +his saddle toward the guard; "lustful fellows who get no fun out of +their lusts, as merry as death, and as silent."</p> + +<p>The guard laughed and raised his lamp to look into Barrington's face +again.</p> + +<p>"Provincials, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, from some corner of France where they breed mutes I fancy," said +Mercier.</p> + +<p>"They're useful maybe, and if Madame Guillotine eats them presently, +what matter? She must have foul food as well as fine. Any fresh news +worth the telling?"</p> + +<p>"None," Mercier answered.</p> + +<p>"Then you may save your breath for your journey. Pass on, citizens."</p> + +<p>They rode forward, slowly for a little way, then faster, but they were +soon off the road to Versailles. The night was dark, a keen wind blowing +in their faces, and there were gusts of rain at intervals. Still +Barrington asked no questions. If this man Mercier were deceiving them, +he was at their mercy. They were out of Paris, leaving it farther behind +them every moment. They had been in Latour's power, he could have +devised no trap for them at the end of this journey. It would be without +reason. But where was Jeanne? Could she be somewhere along the road in +front of them, or were they leaving her behind? The thought was +horrible, and, curiously, it had not occurred to Barrington until now. +Not only was he inclined to trust Latour, but he could see no possible +reason for his helping him to leave Paris unless he intended him to meet +Jeanne. Latour had said such a meeting might be difficult to arrange. As +they rode onward through the night there came a sudden suspicion, a +reason for this journey, which Barrington cursed himself for not +thinking of before. It fitted Latour's character, the good and evil that +was in it. Was Latour getting rid of him by helping him to escape, and +so leaving Jeanne entirely in his power with every opportunity to play +upon her feelings as best suited his purpose?</p> + +<p>"Do we return to Paris presently?" Barrington asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, monsieur," Mercier answered. "By dawn my part in this +business ends, and we part company."</p> + +<p>"I am inclined to return to Paris at once," said Barrington.</p> + +<p>"I would ask you to remember all that Citizen Latour said to you," was +the answer. "He bid me repeat this to you as constantly as you were +inclined to doubt."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what Latour said to me?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Am I to see Latour at the end of this journey?"</p> + +<p>"That I do not know. I am following out my instructions, but I am +convinced that Citizen Latour is acting for your good."</p> + +<p>They rode on in silence again, the beating hoofs of the horses the only +sound in the night.</p> + +<p>The dawn had not come when Mercier drew rein where two roads forked.</p> + +<p>"We will go quietly, monsieur, in case there is danger. There is a house +here we must visit, a wayside inn."</p> + +<p>Barrington let his horse walk but made no answer, and it was evident, by +Seth's movement in his saddle, that he was prepared for attack.</p> + +<p>A mean house, not a light showing from any window, stood by the +roadside. Mercier dismounted and bid his companions do the same. Having +tied the horses to a rail he knocked at the closed door, and Seth +touched his master to warn him and draw his attention to the fact that +the knock was peculiar and had a signal in it. The door was opened by a +man, his figure outlined against the dim light coming from a room +beyond.</p> + +<p>"Welcome. I expected you an hour ago," he said.</p> + +<p>The voice was familiar, and they followed him down a narrow passage +into the lighted room at the back. It was not Latour but Jacques +Sabatier.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, Monsieur Barrington; we meet in strange places."</p> + +<p>"And what is the purpose this time?"</p> + +<p>"Your safety," answered Sabatier. "When we first met I never supposed I +should have been employed so often in your affairs, ay, and have risked +my head on your behalf, too."</p> + +<p>"You seem to forget that you have tricked me."</p> + +<p>"Has it not turned out for the best?" said Sabatier.</p> + +<p>"I will answer that question when I know for what purpose I have been +brought to this place to-night."</p> + +<p>"Truly, it's a poor hostelry to welcome any man to, especially officers +of the Convention," laughed Sabatier.</p> + +<p>"I go no farther until I know where I go and the purpose."</p> + +<p>"We go toward Bordeaux and the sea; the purpose, to put you on board +some vessel which shall carry you in safety to America."</p> + +<p>Barrington moved swiftly to the door and set his back against it.</p> + +<p>"So Latour has tricked me once more. He will be rid of me so that a +defenseless woman may be altogether in his power. I return to Paris at +once. The odds are equal, and you have papers which I must have. They +may be useful to me."</p> + +<p>There was the sharp clatter of steel as Barrington and Seth drew their +sabres. Then a door, which neither of them had noticed, on the other +side of the room, opened, and a man stood on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"The odds are with us, Monsieur Barrington," said Sabatier. "I think you +will be compelled to travel toward Bordeaux."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVIII'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE SUPREME SACRIFICE</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>There had been no fresh news to tell at the barrier on the Versailles +Road, nor at other barriers, until late that night, yet Paris was +excited all day. The storm was destined to develop quickly into a +cyclone. Where was Latour? What secret plotting against the people had +he been engaged in that he should come forward to defend such a man as +Lucien Bruslart? One put the question to Robespierre himself; the answer +was a look and a whisper which meant much. There was the suggestion that +the deputy was a traitor. There seemed no other answer to the question, +and inquiry must be made. Who was the woman who had cried out that +Deputy Latour might himself be in love with the emigré? She was a good +patriot surely, and she was not difficult to find, for she thrust +herself into prominence. Yes, she was the woman who had denounced Lucien +Bruslart. Why? It was a long story, and she did not intend that the +deputy's eloquence should save Bruslart. He had been her lover, but what +was love when the country was in danger? She had been a prisoner in the +Abbaye, taken there in mistake for an aristocrat. She had been rescued. +This man Raymond Latour had rescued her. Might it not be that he loved +the aristocrat? The mob made her a heroine and plied her with questions +which she answered. Scores remembered how she had been arrested, +remembered her journey through the streets. She was believed to be an +aristocrat then, Jeanne St. Clair; now she was known for Pauline Vaison, +as good a patriot as there was in Paris, and as handsome a woman, too. +She was a queen to-day. Certainly there must be more inquiry, and at +once.</p> + +<p>The jailer Mathon was found in a wine shop, being off duty, and he was +somewhat muddled with wine fumes though it was still early in the +afternoon. At first he could not remember anything, but fear presently +cleared his wits. Yes, a woman had escaped from the Abbaye, but he had +been held blameless. His papers were in order. The authorities had been +satisfied. Had he recognized the officers who had taken the prisoner +away? That was the point. Was one of them Deputy Latour? No; and yet, +now it was suggested to him, there had been something strangely familiar +about one of the men. It might have been Deputy Latour. This was good +evidence, and Mathon, the jailer, was suffered to go back to his wine.</p> + +<p>But there was further inquiry still, more subtle questioning. Lucien +Bruslart was condemned to die; to-morrow, a week hence, no one knew yet +when it would be, but certain it was that one day soon his name would be +in the list; then the last ride and the end. He was in despair one +moment, mad for revenge the next. Latour had come at his bidding to +defend him, not for his sake but for his own, and he had failed. He +could ruin Latour probably, why should he not do so? For one instant the +good that is in every man, deep buried though it be, struggled to the +surface and he shrank back from the thought, yet again revenge filled +his soul, and there came the lust to drag others down with him, Latour, +Jeanne, Pauline, and this cursed American. He hated them all. Why should +they live if he was to die?</p> + +<p>Why should he die? Perhaps there would be no need. It was a subtle +suggestion in his ears, no fancy whispering to him, but a real voice. A +man in authority had entered his prison to talk to him. True, Citizen +Bruslart had been condemned, and justly, for he had not acted as a true +patriot should, but mercy was always possible. His prison doors might +yet open again if he would tell the whole truth. There were many +questions asked; many answers given; true answers some of them, but all +fashioned to save Lucien Bruslart from the guillotine, no matter who +else they might send to it. Yes, that was all he knew; was it enough to +save him? Patience. He must wait a little. It seemed enough. So there +was hope in the mean little soul of Lucien Bruslart, even though the +prison doors were still closed upon him.</p> + +<p>With the gathering night came a cyclone. Against Pauline Vaison there +could be no accusation, no matter what the prisoner Bruslart had said, +she was the darling of the mob; but for the others, the deputy, the +aristocrat, and the American, there could be no mercy. Somewhere in +Paris the American was hiding, he would be found presently. Latour had +slunk away that day, many had seen him go; it was a pity he had not been +stopped then, the hunt for him must begin at once. As for the woman, +this emigré, they knew where she was. Pauline Vaison had suggested the +place, so had the prisoner Bruslart. Forward, citizens! Here are the +officers who will arrest her; patriots may well go with them and +rejoice. There will be no mistake this time.</p> + +<p>Dancing, singing, filling the roadway and making the night hideous, the +mob passed along the Rue Valette, fought and struggled through the +narrow passage by the little baker's shop, and burst into the courtyard +beyond. The officers went up the stairs, straight on to the second +floor, and as many of the crowd as could squeeze up the stairway, +followed them. The door was locked.</p> + +<p>"Open, in the name of the Nation!"</p> + +<p>Neither the loud knocking, nor the command, brought any answer.</p> + +<p>"Burst it open!" came a roar of voices.</p> + +<p>It was a poor, common door, and splintered inwards almost at the first +blow. A rush of feet crossed the threshold, officers, and dirty men and +women, marking the floor, kicking aside rug and strip of carpet. A +dainty apartment, white paint, white curtains over the windows and the +bed, prints hanging on the walls, a faint fragrance in the air. She was +here not long since. See the woman's things upon the table! There were +her clothes upon the bed, a coarse dress; but these other garments! Look +at them, citizens! Here's lace and fine linen! One hag, twisting her +bony fingers into a garment, rent it in pieces, while a second, wrapping +another garment round her dirty rags, began to dance to an accompaniment +of ribald laughter. The aristocrat was here, and not long ago, but she +had gone! The curtains were torn from the windows and from the bed, +soiled in a moment and trampled on; the prints were wrenched from the +walls; the bottles on the toilet table were hurled to the floor and +broken; the furniture was shattered. The nest which had been so +carefully prepared was quickly a heap of ruins.</p> + +<p>With curses and blasphemy the crowd hurled itself down the stairs to +the floor below. Here lived Deputy Latour, who had slunk into hiding. +There may be papers in his room; if not, they can break it up as they +have done the room above. Burst open this door too.</p> + +<p>The officers knocked loudly. "Open, in the name of the Nation!"</p> + +<p>It was a loud summons, no answer expected, yet at once the lock shot +back and Raymond Latour stood in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"What do you want with me, citizens?"</p> + +<p>He had been waiting for the summons, was ready for it. His hands had +tightened a little as he heard the wreckage of the room above. He knew +that the woman was no longer there, he knew that with his capture they +would forget all about her for a little while. The hours to-night would +be precious to her. Two men loved her, and Richard Barrington was not +the only man who was willing to die for her. So he faced the crowd upon +the stairs which, after one yell of triumph, had fallen silent. This man +had always been feared. No one knew his power for certain. He was feared +now as he stood, calm and erect, in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, citizens, with Raymond Latour?"</p> + +<p>Still a moment more of silence; then a fiendish yell, earsplitting, +filling the whole house hideously, repeated by the crowd in the +courtyard, finding an echo far down the Rue Valette.</p> + +<p>"Latour is taken! We've got that devil Latour!"</p> + +<p>They brought him out of the house, bareheaded and with no heavy coat to +shield him from the bitter night, just as they had found him. The +officers, with naked sabres, were close to him as they crossed the +courtyard, and went through the passage to the street. They were afraid +that the crowd might attack the prisoner. A woman, old and wrinkled, +looking out from the baker's shop, shrank back behind the little counter +that she might not be noticed. The mob danced and sang, but no one +attempted to touch Latour. They were still afraid of him, he walked so +erect, with so set a face, with so stern a purpose. He was the one +silent figure in this pandemonium.</p> + +<p>"The man who would have saved Louis Capet!" cried one, pointing at him.</p> + +<p>Latour heeded not.</p> + +<p>"The lover of an aristocrat!" cried another.</p> + +<p>No one noticed it, but a smile was on Latour's face. This was his real +offense, that he loved. The face of the woman seemed to shine down upon +him out of the darkness of the night. All the past was in his brain; his +love, his ambition, his schemes which had ended in this hour of ruin and +failure. Yet still the smile was upon his lips, and there was a strange +light in his eyes. Was it failure after all? This end was for her sake, +the supreme sacrifice. What more can a man do than lay down his life for +love?</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIX'></a><h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>THE END OF THE JOURNEY</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>Richard Barrington looked at the man in the doorway and laughed. He was +a mere stripling.</p> + +<p>"You will want greater odds than that to drive desperate men," he said +fiercely. "We return to Paris at once and must have your papers."</p> + +<p>"Richard!"</p> + +<p>Barrington stood perfectly still for a moment as the stripling stepped +into the room, then he sprang forward with a little cry.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! I hate that you should see me like this," she said, "but Citizen +Sabatier declared it was necessary."</p> + +<p>Her face was smeared, much as his own was, a ragged wig concealed her +hair, she was dressed, booted, sashed as a patriot, a pistol at her +waist, a cockade in her hat, young-looking, yet little about her but her +voice to proclaim her a woman.</p> + +<p>"The odds are on our side, monsieur," said Sabatier, and then he touched +Seth on the shoulder. "Come into the next room, there is wine there. We +may finish the bottle. Love is wine enough for them. We must start in +half an hour, Monsieur Barrington."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Jeanne, how did you come?" said Barrington, as the door +closed leaving them alone. "I thought they had cheated me. Until I +entered this room I hoped that my journey would lead me to you. I hardly +know why but I trusted Latour. Then I was mad to think of my folly in +believing, and now you are here. Truly, a miracle has happened."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have been so afraid, such a coward," she said, drawing his arm +round her. "Raymond Latour came to me, straight from seeing you, I +think, bringing this man Sabatier. He told me that I should see you +again, and that I was to do exactly as Sabatier said. He had changed, +Richard. He was very gentle. He asked me not to think unkindly of him. +He kissed my hand when he left me, and, Richard, he left a tear on it."</p> + +<p>"I think he loved you, Jeanne."</p> + +<p>"He said so; not then, but when he first came to me. It was horrible to +hear love spoken of by any man but you. He threatened me, Richard. I +thought he meant what he said."</p> + +<p>"He did when he said it," Barrington answered. "He came to me, demanding +that I should urge you to marry him."</p> + +<p>"And you refused?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and yet—ah, Jeanne, I hardly know what I should have urged. The +thought of the guillotine for you made me afraid."</p> + +<p>"It would have been easier than marrying any other man," she whispered. +"Something, perhaps something you said, Richard, changed Latour. He +evidently arranged my escape. Sabatier came early yesterday with these +clothes. He told me to dress myself in them. Think of it, Richard! I +walked through the streets with him like this, into a house in some +alley, where we waited until it was dusk. Then we rode to the barrier. +I was some horrible wretch thirsting for blood, young as I was; I do not +know what Sabatier said, but even the men at the barrier shuddered at me +and turned away."</p> + +<p>Barrington laughed and held her closer.</p> + +<p>"Then we rode here. We came by the Sceaux road, Sabatier said. This +lonely place made me afraid. It was so unlikely you would find me here. +Then I wondered whether you were dead. You have always seemed to come to +me when I was in need, and this time—oh, it seemed so long, so +hopeless! Now I want to cry and laugh both at once."</p> + +<p>"You have no fear of the journey before us?" Barrington whispered.</p> + +<p>"Fear! With you!"</p> + +<p>"I mean just because it is with me. Do you know what we are going to do? +We travel to the sea, to a ship, then to my home in Virginia. Are you +sure you do not fear the journey which means having me always with you?"</p> + +<p>"Richard," she whispered, "you have never yet asked me to take that +journey. Won't you ask me now?"</p> + +<p>"Jeanne, my darling, my wife to be, will you come?"</p> + +<p>"If God wills, dearest—oh, so willingly, if God wills."</p> + +<p>She remembered how far the sea was, how terribly near to Paris they yet +were. Disaster might be lying in wait for them along the road.</p> + +<p>"He will keep us to the end, dear," Barrington whispered.</p> + +<p>Presently she drew back from him. "How hateful I must look!" she +exclaimed. "Do I seem fit to be the wife of any man, let alone your +wife?"</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you what is in my mind?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, tell me, even if it hurts me."</p> + +<p>"I am longing to see you again as I first saw you at Beauvais. I did not +know who you were, remember, but I loved you then."</p> + +<p>"Even then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, "and ever since and forever-more."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Sabatier entered the room.</p> + +<p>"It is time," he said. "We must start at once. Citizen Mercier goes no +farther. You are now three men under my command. Your names are as +before Roche and Pinot. Mademoiselle is called Morel, a desperate young +patriot, Monsieur Barrington. Do not forget that; only forget that she +is a woman."</p> + +<p>They rode far that day, and after a few hours' rest, journeyed through +part of the night. The spirits of the fugitives rose as Paris was left +farther behind them, yet they were destined to be many days on the +journey, and to encounter dangers. Although they traveled as officers of +the Convention, Sabatier was careful to avoid the towns, and even +villages, as much as possible. If the suspicion of only one patriot were +aroused, their journey might end in disaster. Jeanne St. Clair rode as a +man, looked a man, but she looked very young for such work as they were +supposed to be engaged in, and there was a soft light in her eyes +sometimes which might set a keen observer wondering. Then, too, there +might be pursuit upon the road behind them. Some swift messenger, +keeping the direct road, which they could not always do, might pass +them, and carry a warning before them. There were many dangers, many +possibilities.</p> + +<p>One dawn—they had ridden through the greater part of the night—a +climb which the horses took at walking pace brought them to the top of a +down. The world seemed stretched out before them in the light of the new +day.</p> + +<p>"That way lies Bordeaux," said Sabatier, reining in his horse, and +pointing to the left. "Below us is the mouth of the Gironde, yonder the +open sea."</p> + +<p>"Our journey is nearly at an end, then," said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"I trust so. A day or two's delay, perhaps; I cannot tell."</p> + +<p>Toward evening they were lodged at an inn close to the shore, a deserted +spot where they were unlikely to be disturbed.</p> + +<p>"After dark, Monsieur Barrington, I propose to leave you, and take your +man with me," said Sabatier. "I must get into communication with the +vessel that should be lying farther up the river. Your man will be able +to help me to explain, and guarantee my statement. You are not likely to +be disturbed here, but should any one come, say boldly that you are +watching for two refugees who are expected here hoping to be taken off +by a boat. Order them to leave you to fulfill your duties. Here are +papers which prove you to be Citizen Roche. Watch for the boat, and be +ready."</p> + +<p>"Shall we not see you again?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then, thank you, Citizen Sabatier, for what you have done," said +Barrington. "We owe you much and have nothing but words to pay the +debt."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I told you once I had a liking for you; it was true."</p> + +<p>"Is there no more danger?" said Jeanne.</p> + +<p>"None, I think, mademoiselle. It is most improbable that your escape has +been discovered. Citizen Latour is powerful in Paris and in the +Convention. You have been under his care from the first. I am but the +lieutenant of a great man of whom the world will hear much in the days +to come. As he rises to greater heights, so may I."</p> + +<p>"Will you carry back a message to him?" said Barrington. "Say that with +full hearts we thank him for all he has done for us."</p> + +<p>"And tell him," said Jeanne, "tell him from me that there is one woman +in the world who will always pray for him."</p> + +<p>Prayer and Jacques Sabatier had little in common; prayer was a thing to +laugh at, so much at least had the Revolution done for France and old +superstitions; but he did not laugh now. "He shall have the message," he +said, holding Jeanne's hand for a moment, and then suddenly bending down +and touching it with his lips. "He shall certainly have both your +messages," he went on loudly; and, with a swaggering gait, as though he +were ashamed of his momentary weakness, he passed out of the room +reluctantly followed by Seth, who was apprehensive at having to leave +his master again.</p> + +<p>The night fell and passed. Dawn came and the stronger light of morning, +a morning of sunshine and blue sky. The sunlight touched the white sails +of a vessel, and a boat, with its oars flashing, came quickly toward the +shore where a man and a maid waited hand in hand.</p> +<hr /> + +<p>Jacques Sabatier rode back toward Paris. From high ground he looked and +saw a white sail far out to sea, then he rode on. But the message he +carried was never to be delivered.</p> + +<p>Citizen Latour, feared in Paris, powerful in the Convention, greater +than Robespierre so some had declared, was a traitor. Justice demanded +quick punishment, and the mob, more powerful than Justice, clamored for +it. There was proof enough against him; a score of witnesses if +necessary. Why hear them all? There was no need for a long trial, and +what advocate would have courage sufficient to speak for this prisoner?</p> + +<p>Raymond Latour faced his enemies alone, his face still set, full of +purpose. No man uttered a word in his favor, no single expression of +pity met him. Justice might be tempered with mercy if the prisoner would +say where this emigré and this American were to be found. The prisoner +did not know. A storm of howls and hisses met the answer, barely +silenced by the ringing of the president's bell. Had the prisoner +anything to say in his defense? A great silence, unbroken even by the +prisoner himself. He had been eloquent for Lucien Bruslart, for himself +he had nothing to say. Again a storm of hisses; heads thrust forward, +hands flung out that would tear him in pieces could they reach him. +Uproar and confusion, a yelled demand for condemnation. Nothing else was +possible.</p> + +<p>Still with set face, with firm purpose, Raymond Latour waited in the +Conciergerie. No friend would come to see him, he knew that. Some of +those he had made use of and trusted were not in Paris, some had already +proved his enemies, and none dared show sympathy even if they would. He +was alone, quite alone, without a single friend.</p> + +<p>This day his name was not in the list, nor the next. He wondered a +little at the delay, but waited patiently, knowing that there was no +uncertainty about the end.</p> + +<p>"Raymond Latour."</p> + +<p>It was the first on the list to-day. Without a word he walked into the +dark passage, noticing none of the others who waited there, some pale +and afraid, some as though they were starting upon a journey of +pleasure.</p> + +<p>"One, two, three tumbrils! The guillotine was hungry this morning. +Raymond Latour was in the last tumbril.</p> + +<p>"I was promised life—I told all I knew—there is a mistake. Ask! Let me +wait until to-morrow—for God's sake let me wait until to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>Latour looked at the frightened wretch who was literally thrown into the +tumbril after him, but the expression on his face did not change; he did +not speak.</p> + +<p>The man continued to cry out until the tumbrils started, then with a +wail of despair he fell on his knees, shaking in every limb, chattering +to himself, whether oaths or prayers who shall say?</p> + +<p>The tumbrils moved forward slowly.</p> + +<p>The wretch upon his knees seemed to realize suddenly that he was not +alone. He looked up into the face of the man beside him. Then rose +slowly and touched him.</p> + +<p>"Latour."</p> + +<p>There was no answer, no turning of the head even.</p> + +<p>"Latour. So this is how we meet at last."</p> + +<p>There were crowds in the streets, yelling crowds. He spoke clearly so +that the man might hear him, but there was no answer.</p> + +<p>"Raymond Latour—Latour—this is how we meet, both damned and betrayed +for the sake of a woman."</p> + +<p>No words answered him, but Latour turned and looked full into the eyes +of Lucien Bruslart.</p> + +<p>The tumbrils went forward slowly, a yelling mob on every side.</p> + +<p>"Lucien! Lucien! Look at me!"</p> + +<p>It was a woman's cry, shrill, sounding above the uproar.</p> + +<p>Shaking with fear, yet perhaps with a glimmer of hope still in his +heart, Bruslart looked. There was a woman held high above the crowd, +supported and steadied by strong men's arms.</p> + +<p>"I said you should see me laugh. Look, Lucien! I laugh at you."</p> + +<p>"It is a mistake. Save me, Pauline, save me!"</p> + +<p>"I laugh, Lucien," and a shriek of laughter, mad, riotous, fiendish, cut +like a sharp knife through all that yelling confusion.</p> + +<p>With a cry of rage, despair, and terror, Bruslart sank trembling in a +heap to the floor of the tumbril. Latour did not move. He had not turned +to look at Pauline Vaison. The thought of another woman was in his soul. +Was she safe?</p> + +<p>There was a pause, the crowd was so dense at this corner; then the +tumbril moved on again. The corner was turned. Straight before him +looked Raymond Latour, over the multitude of heads, over the waving arms +and red caps, straight before him across the Place de la Revolution to +the guillotine, to the blue sky, sunlit, against which it rose—and +beyond.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='EPILOGUE'></a><h2>EPILOGUE</h2> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><b>HOME</b></p> +<br /> + +<p>A green hummock and the blue waters of Chesapeake Bay. Sunlight over the +grass, sunlight over the sea, touching white sails there. A woman sat on +the hummock, a man lay at her feet.</p> + +<p>"Jeanne, you are sitting there almost exactly as I have often sat for +hours when I was a youngster, with my chin in my hands, and my elbows on +my knees."</p> + +<p>"Am I, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Little wife, what are you thinking of?"</p> + +<p>"Just my happiness and you. When you used to sit here you never thought +of me."</p> + +<p>"No, dear."</p> + +<p>"And yonder, all the time, I was waiting for you."</p> + +<p>"There came a time, Jeanne, when I believed this spot could never be +dear to me again, when I thought it could never again be home."</p> + +<p>"And now, Richard?"</p> + +<p>"Now, my darling, I am as a man who is almost too richly blessed. In +this world I have found paradise."</p> + +<p>"Of course that isn't really true," she answered, "but I like to hear +you say it."</p> + +<p>"Jeanne dear, there is only one regret. I wish my mother could be here +to see you."</p> + +<p>"She knows, Richard, never doubt that," Jeanne answered. "When I think +of you, I often think of her too. I am here, in her place. Her boy has +become my husband. I am very thankful to her for my good, brave +husband."</p> + +<p>He rose to his knees, put his arm round her, and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"You have no regret, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"No disappointment in me, in Broadmead, in this land of Virginia?"</p> + +<p>"None. But sometimes, Richard, when I see a sail, like that one yonder, +fading into the horizon, going, it may be, toward France, I wonder what +has become of some of those we knew."</p> + +<p>"I often wonder, too," said Richard. "Perhaps we shall never know, +Jeanne."</p> + +<p>News traveled slowly, and there was little detail in it. The Reign of +Terror had come and gone, its high priests swallowed in the fury which +they had created. Danton had died like a man, Robespierre like a cur; +and then the end—cannon clearing the mob from the streets of Paris. A +new era had dawned for France, but the future was yet on the knees of +the gods. Had Raymond Latour escaped the final catastrophe? Were +Sabatier, and Mercier, and Dubois still in Paris, more honestly employed +than formerly perchance? Or had they all sunk in the final storm, gone +down into night with their sins red upon them? No news of them reached +Broadmead, only a rumor that the Marquis de Lafayette had fallen into +the hands of Austria, and certain news that the Terror was at an end.</p> + +<p>"Probably we shall never hear of them," said Richard.</p> + +<p>"Always I think of Latour in my prayers," Jeanne said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you promised that. I wonder whether he ever had your message?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot decide," said Jeanne, thoughtfully. "At first I felt that he +had not, and then, quite suddenly, Richard, it seemed to me that he knew +and was glad. I cannot help thinking that Raymond Latour did something +for us, some great thing of which we have no idea, which we shall never +know—here."</p> + +<p>"He helped to give you to me, Jeanne. I know that, and in my heart thank +him every day of my life. Listen! Wheels! That must be Seth back from +Richmond. He may have news."</p> + +<p>Hand in hand they went toward the house, and there Seth met them. He was +full of the news he had heard in Richmond, but there was nothing new +from France.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<h2>THE END</h2> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13312 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + diff --git a/13312-h/images/1.jpg b/13312-h/images/1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..64d9a67 --- /dev/null +++ b/13312-h/images/1.jpg diff --git a/13312-h/images/2.jpg b/13312-h/images/2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..056bd01 --- /dev/null +++ b/13312-h/images/2.jpg diff --git a/13312-h/images/3.jpg b/13312-h/images/3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7627261 --- /dev/null +++ b/13312-h/images/3.jpg diff --git a/13312-h/images/4.jpg b/13312-h/images/4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e655fe --- /dev/null +++ b/13312-h/images/4.jpg |
