ng his hand--what?"

"'Tis the heat of the room," stammered de Batz, who was fumbling with
the lock of the door; "my head began to swim."

"Spit on their accursed flag, then, like a good patriot, like Capet,"
retorted Simon gruffly. "Here, Capet, my son," he added, pulling the boy
by the arm with a rough gesture, "get thee to bed; thou art quite drunk
enough to satisfy any good Republican."

By way of a caress he tweaked the boy's ear and gave him a prod in the
back with his bent knee. He was not wilfully unkind, for just now he
was not angry with the lad; rather was he vastly amused with the effect
Capet's prayer and Capet's recital of his catechism had had on the
visitor.

As to the lad, the intensity of excitement in him was immediately
followed by an overwhelming desire for sleep. Without any preliminary
of undressing or of washing, he tumbled, just as he was, on to the sofa.
Madame Simon, with quite pleasing solicitude, arranged a pillow under
his head, and the very next moment the child was fast asleep.

"'Tis well, citoyen Simon," said Heron in his turn, going towards
the door. "I'll report favourably on you to the Committee of Public
Security. As for the citoyenne, she had best be more careful," he added,
turning to the woman Simon with a snarl on his evil face. "There was no
cause to arrange a pillow under the head of that vermin's spawn. Many
good patriots have no pillows to put under their heads. Take that pillow
away; and I don't like the shoes on the brat's feet; sabots are quite
good enough."

Citoyenne Simon made no reply. Some sort of retort had apparently
hovered on her lips, but had been checked, even before it was uttered,
by a peremptory look from her husband. Simon the cobbler, snarling in
speech but obsequious in manner, prepared to accompany the citizen agent
to the door.

De Batz was taking a last look at the sleeping child; the uncrowned King
of France was wrapped in a drunken sleep, with the last spoken insult
upon his dead mother still hovering on his childish lips.

CHAPTER VIII. ARCADES AMBO

"That is the way we conduct our affairs, citizen," said Heron gruffly,
as he once more led his guest back into his office.

It was his turn to be complacent now. De Batz, for once in his life
cowed by what he had seen, still wore a look of horror and disgust upon
his florid face.

"What devils you all are!" he said at last.

"We are good patriots," retorted Heron, "and the tyrant's sp