ed one afternoon when, as he returned from his daily walk past the
wine shop, a man suddenly came from a doorway and spoke his name in a
low tone.

"It is Monsieur Barrington?"

"Yes."

"You may remember me, monsieur. I am a servant to Monsieur de
Lafayette."

"Yes, I thought I recognized your face. You have a message for me?"

"My master has left Paris, monsieur. There was a rumor that he was in
the city, and he was in danger of arrest. He has rejoined the army in
the North, but it may not be possible for him to stay there. If not, he
will ride across the Belgian frontier."

"It is bad news?" said Barrington.

"Yes, monsieur, and I was to say to you that you would do well to leave
Paris at the first opportunity. There is no place for an honest man
to-day in France. My master told me to say that."

This news added to Barrington's feeling of impotence, and was
depressing. Had his days been full of active danger it would not have
had such an effect upon him. Naturally disposed to see the silver lining
of every cloud, he was unable to detect it now. Instead, his mind was
full of questions. Was Bruslart honest? Was he leaving no stone unturned
to release Mademoiselle St. Clair? Had Raymond Latour lied to him? Was
this week of waiting merely a pretext in order that he might have time
to render the prisoner's acquittal absolutely impossible?"

"I'd trust this man Latour before I would Bruslart," Seth said, when
Barrington appealed to him, but in such a tone that he did not appear
really to trust either of them.

"And at the end of this week what are we to do if mademoiselle is still
a prisoner?"

"Master Richard, we're just men, ordinary men, and we cannot do the
impossible. We shall have done all that it is in our power to do, and a
ride toward the sea and a ship bound for Virginia would be the best
thing for us."

"You would leave a defenseless woman in the hands of her enemies?"
Barrington asked.

"It seems to me she must remain there whether we stay or go. I'm looking
at the matter as it is, and I see no opening for a romantic side to it,"
Seth answered. "You cannot do battle with a whole city, that would mean
death and nothing accomplished; you cannot go to these ruffians and
demand her release, that would mean death, yours and hers, in the
shortest time possible. No, unless this man Latour keeps his word, I
see naught for us but a return to Virginia as quickly as may be."

"You would never spend anoth