e
blindly, or I shall not be able to keep my word."

"What do you wish me to do?"

"Firstly, you must be outside Paris within the hour. Every minute that
you spend inside the city now is full of danger--oh, no! not for you,"
added Blakeney, checking with a good-humoured gesture Armand's words of
protestation, "danger for the others--and for our scheme tomorrow."

"How can I go to St. Germain, Percy, knowing that she--"

"Is under my charge?" interposed the other calmly. "That should not be
so very difficult. Come," he added, placing a kindly hand on the other's
shoulder, "you shall not find me such an inhuman monster after all. But
I must think of the others, you see, and of the child whom I have sworn
to save. But I won't send you as far as St. Germain. Go down to the room
below and find a good bundle of rough clothes that will serve you as a
disguise, for I imagine that you have lost those which you had on the
landing or the stairs of the house in the Square du Roule. In a tin box
with the clothes downstairs you will find the packet of miscellaneous
certificates of safety. Take an appropriate one, and then start out
immediately for Villette. You understand?"

"Yes, yes!" said Armand eagerly. "You want me to join Ffoulkes and
Tony."

"Yes! You'll find them probably unloading coal by the canal. Try and get
private speech with them as early as may be, and tell Tony to set out at
once for St. Germain, and to join Hastings there, instead of you, whilst
you take his place with Ffoulkes."

"Yes, I understand; but how will Tony reach St. Germain?"

"La, my good fellow," said Blakeney gaily, "you may safely trust Tony to
go where I send him. Do you but do as I tell you, and leave him to look
after himself. And now," he added, speaking more earnestly, "the sooner
you get out of Paris the better it will be for us all. As you see, I am
only sending you to La Villette, because it is not so far, but that I
can keep in personal touch with you. Remain close to the gates for an
hour after nightfall. I will Contrive before they close to bring you
news of Mademoiselle Lange."

Armand said no more. The sense of shame in him deepened with every
word spoken by his chief. He felt how untrustworthy he had been, how
undeserving of the selfless devotion which Percy was showing him even
now. The words of gratitude died on his lips; he knew that they would be
unwelcome. These Englishmen were so devoid of sentiment, he thought,
and his