was nothing more to be said.

Latour went slowly down to his room. All his excitement had vanished. He
was calm and calculating again, a man in a dangerous mood; yet Jeanne's
words were still in his ears. "I love Richard Barrington; his death or
mine cannot alter that." What had he expected from this interview? He
hardly knew. He had declared that his game was won, but it was not the
game he had schemed to play. It was to have been his love against Lucien
Bruslart's. To plead that would have been easy, and surely the woman
must have listened, yes, and recognized the true from the false. This
cursed American had altered the game; still, he was a man, a man of his
word. He had promised to plead for him. He should do it.

Raymond Latour passed out presently into the Rue Valette and went in the
direction of the Tuileries. There was public business he must do. Paris
was clamorous and dangerous. The mob cried out to Deputy Latour as he
passed, telling him how to vote, but he took no notice, never even
turning his head. He was not thinking of a king, but of the woman he
loved.

CHAPTER XXV

A DEBT IS PAID

Dr. Legrand slept late on this Saturday morning; his dreams had been
pleasant, and he hastily descended to his study, his face beaming, his
body tingling with excitement. The regret which he had expressed last
night, and really felt in his own limited fashion, was gone; how could
he feel regret when in a short hour or two he was destined to handle so
much money?

As he went to his study a servant stopped him.

"Monsieur, monsieur, we have only just discovered, but Mademoiselle St.
Clair--"

"Yes, yes; what about her?"

"Gone, monsieur."

"Gone!"

The doctor staggered back against the wall, his face working in a sudden
convulsion. It was as though the servant had struck him a heavy blow
between the eyes.

"Yes, monsieur. Her bed has not been slept in. The Marquis de Castellux
is not to be found either. We have inquired among the guests. No one has
seen them since they left the salon last night."

No articulate word came from Legrand, only a growl like that of an angry
animal. He rushed to mademoiselle's room, then to the one Monsieur de
Castellux had occupied temporarily. In a few moments the house was being
searched from cellar to garret, every room was entered, whether the
guests expostulated or not, but there was no sign of the fugitives, nor
anything to show how they had gone. No one noticed tha