He had never seen such men as these. True, they were wet and
travel-stained, and had the air of those who spend their nights in
ditches and under haystacks. But their pale, stern faces were set in
indomitable resolve. Their eyes glowed with a steady fire, and they trod
the mud floor as kings tread. Their leader was a man of majestic height
and stern beauty, and in his eyes alone there seemed to lurk a spark of
lighter fire, as if his spirit still rose above the task which had
sobered his companions. Michel noted all this in fear and bewilderment;
noted the white head yet the vigorous bearing of the man who had struck
the light; noted even the manner in which the light died away in the dim
recesses of the barn.

"And this Girondin--is he in hiding here?" the tall man asked.

"That is so," Michel answered. "But I had nothing to do with hiding him,
citizen. It was my wife hid him in the straw there."

"And you gave notice of his presence to the authorities?" the stranger
continued, raising his hand to repress some movement among his
followers.

"Certainly, or you would not be here," replied Michel, better satisfied
with himself.

The answer struck him, prostrated him, with an awful terror. "That does
not follow," the tall man rejoined coolly, "for we, we, also, are
Girondins!"

"You are? You?"

"Without doubt," the other answered, with majestic simplicity; "or there
are no such persons. This is Petion of Paris, and this citizen Buzot.
Have you heard of Louvet? There he stands. For me, I am Barbaroux."

Michel's tongue remained glued to the roof of his mouth. He could not
utter a word. But another could. On the far side of the barrier a
rustling was heard, and while all turned to look--but with what
different feelings--the pale face of the youth over whom Michel had bent
in the afternoon appeared above the partition. A smile of joyful
recognition effaced for the time the lines of exhaustion. The young man,
clinging for support to the planks, uttered a cry of thankfulness. "It
is you! It is really you! You are safe!" he exclaimed. Love beamed in
his eyes.

"We are safe, all of us, Pierre," Barbaroux answered. "And now"--he
turned to Michel Tellier with thunder in his voice--"know that this man
whom you would have betrayed is our guide, whom we lost last night.
Speak, then, in your defence, if you can. Say what you have to say why
justice should not be done upon you, miserable caitiff, who would have
sold a man's