s to the safety
of the girls and the fate of Marie, had completely exhausted her
strength, and the last six months had aged her as many years. Harry
tried hard to keep up his appearance of hopefulness, and to cheer
the girls; but Jeanne's quick eye speedily perceived the change in
him.

"You are wearing yourself out, Harry," she said one evening as they
were sitting by the fire, while Virginie was tending Louise in the
next room. "I can see it in your face. It is of no use your trying
to deceive me. You tell us every day that you hope soon to get
hold of the captain of a boat sailing for England; but I know that
in reality you are making no progress. All those months when we
were hoping to get Marie out of prison--though it seemed next to
impossible--you told us not to despair, and I knew you did not
despair yourself; but now it is different. I am sure that you do
in your heart almost give up hope. Why don't you trust me, Harry?
I may not be able to do much, but I might try to cheer you. You
have been comforting us all this time. Surely it is time I took my
turn. I am not a child now."

"I feel like one just at present," Harry said unsteadily with
quivering lips. "I feel sometimes as if--as we used to say at
school--I could cry for twopence. I know, Jeanne, I can trust you, and
it isn't because I doubted your courage that I have not told you
exactly how things are going on, but because it is entirely upon
you now that Louise and Virginie have to depend, and I do not wish
to put any more weight on your shoulders; but it will be a relief
to me to tell you exactly how we stand."

Harry then told her how completely he had failed with the sailors,
and how an actual feeling of hostility against him had arisen.

"I think I could have stood that, Jeanne; but it is that terrible
committee that tries me. It is so awful hearing these fiends marking
out their victims and exulting over their murder, that at times I
feel tempted to throw myself upon some of them and strangle them."

"It must be dreadful, Harry," Jeanne said soothingly. "Will it not
be possible for you to give out that you are ill, and so absent
yourself for a time from their meetings? I am sure you look ill--ill
enough for anything. As to the sailors, do not let that worry
you. Even if you could hear of a ship at present it would be of no
use. I couldn't leave Louise; she seems to me to be getting worse
and worse, and the doctor you called in three days ag