France to place himself at the disposal of Monsieur de
Lafayette. If there were any risk in telling this woman so, he was
rather relieved to have real danger to face instead of lying and
intrigue; the one he might meet successfully, but he was no adept in
battling with the other.

"You took the star from Rouzet's coat after he was dead you say, are you
sure it was a gold star you took?"

"I made certain by looking at it."

"And you can thoroughly trust your servant?"

"As myself, mademoiselle."

"You have not told me your name," she said.

"Richard Barrington," he answered, and then he laughed a little. "Why I
trust you, I do not know. I may be putting it into your power to do me a
great deal of harm."

"If I have the power, I shall not use it," she answered.

There was a moment coming when she would have to decide whether these
words constituted a promise given without reservation, or whether the
promise were contingent on his being honest, as now she believed him to
be.

"For that I thank you," he returned.

"And you have my thanks for coming to Beauvais. That you have been
robbed only makes it clearer how bitter Lucien's enemies are. Have you
any plan, Monsieur Barrington, by which I could reach Paris in safety?"

The question set his thoughts rushing into a new channel. He felt
suddenly responsible for her, knew that to prevent her going even into
the shadow of harm he was prepared to face any danger. It was not her
beauty which influenced him, a moment ago he had been ready to despise
it if she were a deceitful woman; something more subtle than her beauty
appealed to him, herself, the revelation of herself which was in her
question.

"It is impossible for you to go to Paris, mademoiselle. The crowd of
refugees in this chateau is proof enough that the danger is too great.
How any man, no matter what his need may be, could ask you to put
yourself in such jeopardy, I cannot understand."

"Yet you undertook to bring the message to Beauvais. Was it in your mind
to advise that no notice should be taken of it?"

"Indeed, mademoiselle, I thought of little beyond fulfilling the oath I
had taken, and to go my way again as quickly as possible."

"The answer to the message must rest with me, Monsieur Barrington," she
said, quietly. "It was not by my own will that I left Paris. I am not
afraid to return. Will you help me?"

"Mademoiselle, I----"

"Please, Monsieur Barrington. It means life or death, perch