d
upon the landing.

He held the candle up so that its feeble flickering rays fell on
Armand's pale face, and on the damp cloak which fell away from his
shoulders.

"What are you doing there?" reiterated the concierge with another oath
from his prolific vocabulary.

"As you see, citizen," replied Armand politely, "I am ringing
Mademoiselle Lange's front door bell."

"At this hour of the morning?" queried the man with a sneer.

"I desire to see her."

"Then you have come to the wrong house, citizen," said the concierge
with a rude laugh.

"The wrong house? What do you mean?" stammered Armand, a little
bewildered.

"She is not here--quoi!" retorted the concierge, who now turned
deliberately on his heel. "Go and look for her, citizen; it'll take you
some time to find her."

He shuffled off in the direction of the stairs. Armand was vainly trying
to shake himself free from a sudden, an awful sense of horror.

He gave another vigorous pull at the hell, then with one bound he
overtook the concierge, who was preparing to descend the stairs, and
gripped him peremptorily by the arm.

"Where is Mademoiselle Lange?" he asked.

His voice sounded quite strange in his own ear; his throat felt parched,
and he had to moisten his lips with his tongue before he was able to
speak.

"Arrested," replied the man.

"Arrested? When? Where? How?"

"When--late yesterday evening. Where?--here in her room. How?--by the
agents of the Committee of General Security. She and the old woman!
Basta! that's all I know. Now I am going back to bed, and you clear out
of the house. You are making a disturbance, and I shall be reprimanded.
I ask you, is this a decent time for rousing honest patriots out of
their morning sleep?"

He shook his arm free from Armand's grasp and once more began to
descend.

Armand stood on the landing like a man who has been stunned by a blow
on the head. His limbs were paralysed. He could not for the moment have
moved or spoken if his life had depended on a sign or on a word. His
brain was reeling, and he had to steady himself with his hand against
the wall or he would have fallen headlong on the floor. He had lived in
a whirl of excitement for the past twenty-four hours; his nerves during
that time had been kept at straining point. Passion, joy, happiness,
deadly danger, and moral fights had worn his mental endurance
threadbare; want of proper food and a sleepless night had almost thrown
his physical bal