ir by the table, his face pale, his hands
trembling.

"Tell me," he said, his voice a whisper.

"I cannot say how suspicion first arose, but some one at the barrier
must have started it. Whether it was a guess, or whether some one
recalled her face some time after she had been allowed to pass, I do not
know, nor does it matter much. It got wind that Mademoiselle St. Clair
had entered Paris, and where in Paris would she be most likely to
go?--to Citizen Bruslart's. A crowd was quickly on its way there.
Bruslart was away from home, but they would go in, and there they found
her. Not an hour ago they were shouting round her as they took her to
the Abbaye."

"There is wine in that cupboard, Sabatier--thanks. This news has taken
the nerve out of me. Bruslart must have known she was in his house.
Barrington would leave her there."

"I am not so sure of that," said Sabatier. "I do not know how much this
Barrington suspects, but I do not think he is a man to make so obvious a
mistake. I give him credit for more cunning, and with reason, I think."

"And Bruslart must have known the danger," said Latour.

"He may not, if he supposed mademoiselle had managed to get into Paris
unseen. I cannot understand Citizen Bruslart."

"Dieu! Did he betray her himself, Sabatier?"

"I do not know. If I could see any object in his doing so I might
suspect him."

"The Abbaye," Latour muttered, getting up and pacing the room. "The
Abbaye. We must get her out, Sabatier. She would never be acquitted. Had
she remained in Paris, the good she has done to the poor might have been
remembered in her favor, but an emigre, her great name and all that it
stands for--. No, she is as surely doomed as any prisoner who has
entered the Abbaye. I have business at the prison to-night, Sabatier. I
may learn something of her."

"Wait, citizen. To-morrow will do. You will not be careful enough
to-night."

Latour paused by the table, a little astonished perhaps at the concern
in his companion's voice. Sabatier was to be trusted as a man who served
well for payment, but his hands had been red often, and it was strange
to hear anything like sentiment from his lips.

"One would think you had some real affection for me," said Latour.

Sabatier swaggered to hide such weakness. "I am a man, citizen, who
fears nothing. I can recognize another man who fears God or man as
little as I do."

"The wine has cured me," said Latour. "I shall do my business, nothing