ry of some quiet citizen by
the ruffians of the streets. It was a political assassination that
had been attempted--a vengeance by Royalists upon one of the men
of the Revolution. He looked more closely at the person whose life
he had saved. He had a thin and insignificant figure--his face was
pale and looked like that of a student. It seemed to Harry that he
had seen it before, but where he could not say. His first thought
was one of regret that he had interfered to save one of the men
of the 2d of September; then the thought flashed through his mind
that there might be some benefit to be derived from it.

"Young man," the stranger said, "will you give me your arm and
escort me home? You have saved my life; it is a humble one, but
perhaps it is of some value to France. I live but two streets away.
It is not often I am out alone, for I have many enemies, but I was
called suddenly out on business, though I have no doubt now the
message was a fraudulent one, designed simply to put me into the
hands of my foes."

The man spoke in a thin hard voice, which inspired Harry, he knew
not why, with a feeling of repulsion; he had certainly heard it
before. He offered him his arm and walked with him to his door.

"Come up, I beg you," the stranger said.

He ascended to the second floor and rang at the bell. A woman with
a light opened it.

"Why, my brother," she exclaimed on seeing his face, "you are ill!
Has anything happened?"

"I have been attacked in the street," he said, "but I am not hurt,
though, had it not been for this citizen it would have gone hardly
with me. You have to thank him for saving your brother's life."

They had entered a sitting-room now. It was plainly but very neatly
furnished. There were some birds in cages, which, late though the
hour was, hopped on their perches and twittered when they heard
the master's voice, and he responded with two or three words of
greeting to them.

"Set the supper," he said to his sister; "the citizen will take a
meal with us. You know who I am, I suppose?" he said to Harry.

"No," Harry replied. "I have a recollection of your face and voice,
but I cannot recall where I have met you."

"I am Robespierre," he said.

Harry gave a start of surprise. This man whom he had saved was he
whom he had so often execrated--one of the leaders of those who
had deluged France with blood--the man who, next only to Marat
was hated and feared by the Royalists of France. His first f