an with gratitude.

But to his astonishment the citizen shook his head, while an awkward
embarrassment twisted his features. "It is impossible!" he said.

Adrian doubted if he had heard aright. Nicholas Toussaint was known for
a bold man; one whom the Sixteen disliked, and even suspected of
Huguenot leanings, but one too whom they had not yet dared to attack. He
was a dealer in Norman horses, and this both led him to employ many men,
reckless daring fellows, and made him in some degree necessary to the
army. Adrian had never doubted that he would shelter the daughter of his
old friend; and his surprise on receiving this rebuff was extreme.

"But, Monsieur Toussaint--" he urged--and his face reddened with
generous warmth as he stood forward. "My master is dead! Foully
murdered! He lies who says otherwise, though he be of the Sixteen! My
mistress has few friends to protect her, and those of small power. Will
you send her and the child from your door?"

"Hush, Adrian," the girl interposed, lifting her head proudly, yet
laying her hand on the clerk's sleeve with a touch of acknowledgment
that brought the blood in redoubled force to his cheeks. "Do not press
our friend overmuch. If he will not take us in from the streets, be sure
he has some good reason to offer."

But Toussaint was dumb. Shame--a shame augmented tenfold by the clerk's
fearlessness--was so clearly written on his face, that Adrian uttered
none of the reproaches which hung on his lips. It was Felix who came
forward, and cried contemptuously, "So you have grown strangely cautious
of a sudden, M. Toussaint?"

"Ha! I thought you were there, or thereabouts!" the horse-dealer
replied, regaining his composure at once, and eyeing him with strong
disfavour.

"But Felix and I," Adrian exclaimed eagerly, "will fend for ourselves."

Toussaint shook his head. "It is impossible," he said surlily. "Quite
impossible!"

"Then hear me!" Felix interposed with excitement. "You do not deceive
me. It is not because of your daughter that you have forbidden me the
house, and will not now protect my sister! It is because we shall learn
too much. It is because you have those under your roof, whom the crows
shall pick--yet! You, I will spare for Madeline's sake; but your spies I
will string up, every one of them by----" and he swore a frightful
oath, such as the Romanists used.

Toussaint's face betrayed both fear and anger. For an instant he seemed
to hesitate. Then exclai