as evident that his companion was also on the alert.

"Have you authority to question me?" Barrington asked.

"Papers here," said the man, touching his coat, "and this." His hand
fell upon a pistol in his belt.

"Leave it there. It is the safest place."

Seth's hands had come from his pocket with a pistol in it. Barrington
still laughed.

"My friend seems as suspicious as you are. Let me end it, for truly I
expected to be drinking with you before this, instead of trying to find
a cause for quarrel. Your eyes must be sharp indeed if you can discover
an aristocrat in me. I was for freedom and the people before you had
struck a blow for the cause here in France. We are from the coast,
before that from America, and we journey to Paris to offer our services
to the Marquis de Lafayette."

Perhaps the man believed him, perhaps he did not, but the result of an
appeal to force was doubtful, and wine was an attraction. He held out
his hand with an air that the welcome of France was in the action. For
the present they could pose as friends, whatever might chance in the
future.

"Sieur Motier the Marquis is now called, but in America that name would
not appeal. We may drown our mistake in wine, the first but maybe not
the last time we shall drink together."

The landlord brought in the wine and departed without being questioned.

"Sieur Motier," said Barrington, reflectively. "News has traveled slowly
to us in Virginia, and things here have moved quickly. You can tell me
much. This meeting is a fortunate one for me."

Into weeks and months had been crowded the ordinary work of a long
period of time. After nearly three years of strenuous effort, the
Constituent Assembly had come to an end. With Mirabeau as its master
spirit, it had done much, some evil, but a great deal that was good. It
had suppressed torture, done away with secret letters, and lightened the
burden of many grievous taxes. Now, the one man who was able to deal
with the crisis if any man was, the aristocrat who had become the
darling of the rabble, the "little mother" of the fisher-wives, the hope
of even the King himself, was silent. Mirabeau was dead. In fear the
King had fled from Paris only to be stopped at Varennes and brought back
ignominiously to the capital. The Legislative Assembly took the place of
the Constituent Assembly, three parties in it struggling fiercely for
the mastery, one party, that high-seated crowd called the Mountain, red
republi