he street of their sojourn at Paris, in the perilous days of
the Terror, was the street of his sojourn too.

Danville had been astonished at the acceptance of his proffered
services; he was still more amazed when he found that the post selected
for him was one of the superintendent's places in that very office of
Secret Police in which Lomaque was employed as agent. Robespierre and
his colleagues had taken the measure of their man--he had money enough,
and local importance enough to be worth studying. They knew where he was
to be distrusted, and how he might be made useful. The affairs of the
Secret Police were the sort of affairs which an unscrupulously cunning
man was fitted to help on; and the faithful exercise of that cunning in
the service of the State was insured by the presence of Lomaque in the
office. The discarded servant was just the right sort of spy to watch
the suspected master. Thus it happened that, in the office of the Secret
Police at Paris, and under the Reign of Terror, Lomaque's old master
was, nominally, his master still--the superintendent to whom he was
ceremonially accountable, in public--the suspected man, whose slightest
words and deeds he was officially set to watch, in private.

Ever sadder and darker grew the face of Lomaque as he now pondered alone
over the changes and misfortunes of the past five years. A neighboring
church-clock striking the hour of seven aroused him from his
meditations. He arranged the confused mass of papers before him--looked
toward the door, as if expecting some one to enter--then, finding
himself still alone, recurred to the one special paper which had first
suggested his long train of gloomy thoughts. The few lines it contained
were signed in cipher, and ran thus:

"You are aware that your superintendent, Danville, obtained leave of
absence last week to attend to some affairs of his at Lyons, and that he
is not expected back just yet for a day or two. While he is away, push
on the affair of Trudaine. Collect all the evidence, and hold yourself
in readiness to act on it at a moment's notice. Don't leave the office
till you have heard from me again. If you have a copy of the Private
Instructions respecting Danville, which you wrote for me, send it to my
house. I wish to refresh my memory. Your original letter is burned."

Here the note abruptly terminated. As he folded it up and put it in his
pocket, Lomaque sighed. This was a very rare expression of feeli