colour had faded away, the former
somewhat haughty air and carriage had disappeared, and there was
an expression of patient resignation on her face. Harry had only
the opportunity to whisper to her "Hope always, all is not lost
yet." He had spent hours each day in his lodging imitating the
signature of Robespierre, and he had made up his mind that, should
all other efforts fail, he would boldly present himself at the prison
with an order for Marie's release, with Robespierre's signature
forged at the bottom.

He thought he could write it now plainly enough for it to pass; his
fear was that the prison authorities would not act upon it, unless
presented by a well-known official personage, without sending to
Robespierre to have it verified.

Still but little change had taken place in Victor de Gisons' condition.
He remained in a state almost of lethargy, with an expression of
dull hopelessness on his face; sometimes he passed his hand wearily
across his forehead as if he were trying to recollect something he
had lost; he was still too weak to stand, but Jacques and his wife
would dress him and place him on a couch which Harry purchased for
his use. The worthy couple ran no risk now, for the sharpest spy
would fail to recognize in the bowed-down invalid with vacant face,
the once brilliant Victor de Gisons.

Harry had many talks with Jeanne concerning him. "What should we
do, Harry," the girl said over and over again, "if we could get
Marie away and all get safe together to England, which I begin to
despair now of our ever doing, but if we should do it what should
we say to Marie? She thinks Victor is safe there. Only the other
day, as you know, she sent us out a letter to him. What would she
say when she learned on her arrival in England that Victor has all
this time been lying broken down and in suffering in Paris?"

To this question Harry, for a long time, could give no answer. At
last he said, "I have been thinking it over, Jeanne, and I feel
that we have no right to take Marie away without her knowing the
truth about Victor. His misfortunes have come upon him because he
would stop in Paris to watch over her. I feel now that she has the
right, if she chooses, of stopping in Paris to look after him."

"Oh, Harry, you would never think of our going away and leaving
her!"

"I don't know, Jeanne, if it would not be best. She could stay
in the disguise of a peasant girl with Jacques and his wife; they
would give o