wooden
tables stood on the space before the door, used no doubt on balmy summer
evenings, but deserted to-night. The sound of laughter and much talking
came to Richard as he approached, and he stood for a moment under a tree
by the roadside to look at the front of the building, at the windows
through which the sound of merrymaking came, and at the windows above
which showed no light. Crossing the road, he found a gap in the hedge
and went round to look at the back of the house. There was a garden,
mostly of vegetables and not ill kept, a low, wooden fence, broken down
in one place, enclosing it from the field in which he stood. A dim light
came from two windows on the ground floor, but above every window was
dark. If Mademoiselle St. Clair were there she must be without lamp or
candle, or the windows must be closely shuttered. He took careful note
of the back of the house and how the road lay in regard to it, for there
was no knowing what difficulties the next few minutes might bring. Then
he went back to the front of the house, and approaching quietly, looked
in at the window across which the curtains were only partially drawn. He
was prepared for any eventuality, and his hand in the pocket of his
coat held his pistol, but he was startled at what he saw. Facing him sat
Monsieur le Comte and his friend. These men had probably robbed him of
the gold star, Seth was of the same opinion; certainly they had done
their utmost to prevent his finding mademoiselle at the ball. Were they
aristocrats? If so, they were playing with fire among this crowd of
savage-looking patriots.

Monsieur le Comte was drunk, or feigning to be, and Barrington saw him
take up the wine bottle and smash it on the table, and heard him declare
that the only way to get the emigres into their power was to lie to them
and cheat them. He stayed to hear no more. Surely this man's presence
there, and his words, meant that he had lied to some purpose, meant that
Mademoiselle St. Clair was in the inn. Her danger was great, for there
was no doubt about the savage temper of the crowd in that room.

The door stood open, there was no one in the entrance, and Barrington
slipped in.

"The woman upstairs! The peasant woman!" These were the words that
greeted him. Horrible in their suggestion, they were a guide to him. He
was upon the dark staircase when the rush from the room came, and the
man fell upon the threshold. He drew back to the wall lest he should be
se