te spoke.

"What is it?" he said.

"The order for my arrest was signed an hour ago," the Girondin answered,
his eyes still glued to the window. "You are both included in it. Ah!
here they are!"

"Who?" the Vicomte asked with energy.

"Baudouin and three officers. However, the door is shut. It is strong,
and will gain us a few minutes."

"To what end?" The Vicomte spoke coldly. Mirande's conduct took him by
surprise, for resistance to arrest was rare during the Revolution. Such
men as Mirande, courageous, bigoted, devoted to an ideal, made a
point--unless they resorted to suicide--of submitting calmly to destiny
and the law.

The Girondin, however, had decided otherwise. Nor did he seem to be
aware of his companion's disapproval. He did not answer, but continued
to look out long after the tramp of heavy footsteps on the stairs had
drawn his daughter to his side. There was a loud summons without, "In
the name of the law!" but the three remained silent, standing close
together, the girl's white, scared face glimmering in the increasing
darkness of the room. The Vicomte a foot from her, could almost hear the
dull beating of her heart.

"Can nothing be done?" he muttered.

"We can do nothing but wait and be silent," the Republican answered
calmly. "They know we are here, but if we do not answer, they may pause
awhile before they attack the door. And every moment--is a moment
gained."

The Vicomte shrugged his shoulders, but acquiesced; and some minutes
elapsed--minutes which seemed hours to more than one of the
three--before the locksmith for whom the Commissary had sent, assailed
the door, and the almost empty house rang with the harsh sounds of his
hammer.

Crash! The door was open at last, letting into the room a flood of
light, and with the light three men who entered with levelled arms. The
foremost, an officer girt with a huge tricolour scarf, stopped abruptly,
his jaw dropping ludicrously as his eyes fell on the placid group before
him. "Citizen Achille Mirande?" he said interrogatively. "Yes? I am
empowered to arrest you in the name of the Committee of Safety; you,
your daughter also present I think--and a guest. This I presume is the
person?"

"It is," Mirande answered quietly. "Perhaps you will permit me to show
you where my papers are. They may be needed?"

"They will be needed," the Commissary replied, re-arranging his scarf,
which had been pulled awry. "You may certainly collect them under
surv