ille turned uneasily toward the police agents. "Remove your
prisoner," he said. "You have done your duty here."

"Only half of it," retorted Lomaque, eying him attentively. "Rose
Danville--"

"My wife!" exclaimed the other. "What about my wife?"

"Rose Danville," continued Lomaque, impassibly, "you are included in the
arrest of Louis Trudaine."

Rose raised her head quickly from her brother's breast. His firmness
had deserted him--he was trembling. She heard him whispering to himself,
"Rose, too! Oh, my God! I was not prepared for that." She heard these
words, and dashed the tears from her eyes, and kissed him, saying:

"I am glad of it, Louis. We risked all together--we shall now suffer
together. I am glad of it!"

Danville looked incredulously at Lomaque, after the first shock of
astonishment was over.

"Impossible!" he exclaimed. "I never denounced my wife. There is some
mistake; you have exceeded your orders."

"Silence!" retorted Lomaque, imperiously. "Silence, citizen, and respect
to a decree of the Republic!"

"You blackguard! show me the arrest-order!" said Danville. "Who has
dared to denounce my wife?"

"You have!" said Lomaque, turning on him with a grin of contempt.
"You--and 'blackguard' back in your teeth! You, in denouncing her
brother! Aha! we work hard in our office; we don't waste time in
calling names--we make discoveries. If Trudaine is guilty, your wife is
implicated in his guilt. We know it; and we arrest her."

"I resist the arrest," cried Danville. "I am the authority here. Who
opposes me?"

The impassible chief agent made no answer. Some new noise in the street
struck his quick ear. He ran to the window and looked out eagerly.

"Who opposes me?" reiterated Danville.

"Hark!" exclaimed Lomaque, raising his hand. "Silence, and listen!"

The heavy, dull tramp of men marching together became audible as he
spoke. Voices humming low and in unison the Marseillaise hymn,
joined solemnly with the heavy, regular footfalls. Soon the flare of
torch-light began to glimmer redder and redder under the dim, starlight
sky.

"Do you hear that? Do you see the advancing torch-light?" cried Lomaque,
pointing exultingly into the street. "Respect to the national hymn,
and to the man who holds in the hollow of his hand the destinies of all
France! Hat off, Citizen Danville! Robespierre is in the street. His
bodyguard, the Hard-hitters, are lighting him on his way to the Jacobin
Club! Who shall oppos