, begging him to tarry for another five minutes at least, throwing
out--with subtle feminine intuition--just those very hints anent little
Capet's safety that were most calculated to send him flying back towards
the Temple.

"I felt so honoured last night, citizen," she said coquettishly, "that
you even forgot little Capet in order to come and watch my debut as
Celimene."

"Forget him!" retorted Heron, smothering a curse, "I never forget the
vermin. I must go back to him; there are too many cats nosing round my
mouse. Good day to you, citizeness. I ought to have brought flowers, I
know; but I am a busy man--a harassed man."

"Je te crois," she said with a grave nod of the head; "but do come to
the theatre to-night. I am playing Camille--such a fine part! one of my
greatest successes."

"Yes, yes, I'll come--mayhap, mayhap--but I'll go now--glad to have seen
you, citizeness. Where does your cousin lodge?" he asked abruptly.

"Here," she replied boldly, on the spur of the moment.

"Good. Let him report himself to-morrow morning at the Conciergerie, and
get his certificate of safety. It is a new decree, and you should have
one, too."

"Very well, then. Hector and I will come together, and perhaps Aunt
Marie will come too. Don't send us to maman guillotine yet awhile,
citizen," she said lightly; "you will never get such another Camille,
nor yet so good a Celimene."

She was gay, artless to the last. She accompanied Heron to the door
herself, chaffing him about his escort.

"You are an aristo, citizen," she said, gazing with well-feigned
admiration on the two sleuth-hounds who stood in wait in the anteroom;
"it makes me proud to see so many citizens at my door. Come and see me
play Camille--come to-night, and don't forget the green-room door--it
will always be kept invitingly open for you."

She bobbed him a curtsey, and he walked out, closely followed by his two
men; then at last she closed the door behind them. She stood there for
a while, her ear glued against the massive panels, listening for their
measured tread down the oak staircase. At last it rang more sharply
against the flagstones of the courtyard below; then she was satisfied
that they had gone, and went slowly back to the boudoir.

CHAPTER X. SHADOWS

The tension on her nerves relaxed; there was the inevitable reaction.
Her knees were shaking under her, and she literally staggered into the
room.

But Armand was already near her, down on both