brother-in-law, with all his unselfish and heroic deeds, was, he
felt, absolutely callous in matters of the heart.

But Armand was a noble-minded man, and with the true sporting instinct
in him, despite the fact that he was a creature of nerves, highly strung
and imaginative. He could give ungrudging admiration to his chief, even
whilst giving himself up entirely to the sentiment for Jeanne.

He tried to imbue himself with the same spirit that actuated my Lord
Tony and the other members of the League. How gladly would he have
chaffed and made senseless schoolboy jokes like those which--in face
of their hazardous enterprise and the dangers which they all ran--had
horrified him so much last night.

But somehow he knew that jokes from him would not ring true. How could
he smile when his heart was brimming over with his love for Jeanne, and
with solicitude on her account? He felt that Percy was regarding him
with a kind of indulgent amusement; there was a look of suppressed
merriment in the depths of those lazy blue eyes.

So he braced up his nerves, trying his best to look cool and
unconcerned, but he could not altogether hide from his friend the
burning anxiety which was threatening to break his heart.

"I have given you my word, Armand," said Blakeney in answer to the
unspoken prayer; "cannot you try and trust me--as the others do? Then
with sudden transition he pointed to the map behind him.

"Remember the gate of Villette, and the corner by the towpath. Join
Ffoulkes as soon as may be and send Tony on his way, and wait for news
of Mademoiselle Lange some time to-night."

"God bless you, Percy!" said Armand involuntarily. "Good-bye!"

"Good-bye, my dear fellow. Slip on your disguise as quickly as you can,
and be out of the house in a quarter of an hour."

He accompanied Armand through the ante-room, and finally closed the door
on him. Then he went back to his room and walked up to the window, which
he threw open to the humid morning air. Now that he was alone the look
of trouble on his face deepened to a dark, anxious frown, and as
he looked out across the river a sigh of bitter impatience and
disappointment escaped his lips.

CHAPTER XV. THE GATE OF LA VILLETTE

And now the shades of evening had long since yielded to those of night.
The gate of La Villette, at the northeast corner of the city, was about
to close. Armand, dressed in the rough clothes of a labouring man, was
leaning against a low wall at