together, and--oh, the pity of it! the pity and the shame!--a
few children, shrieking with delight, were playing hide and seek in and
out amongst the columns.

And, between them all, in and out like the children at play, unseen, yet
familiar to all, the spectre of Death, scythe and hour-glass in hand,
wandered, majestic and sure.

Armand's very soul was in his eyes. So far he had not yet caught sight
of his beloved, and slowly--very slowly--a ray of hope was filtering
through the darkness of his despair.

The sentinel, who had stood aside for him, chaffed him for his
intentness.

"Have you a sweetheart among these aristos, citizen?" he asked. "You
seem to be devouring them with your eyes."

Armand, with his rough clothes soiled with coal-dust, his face grimy and
streaked with sweat, certainly looked to have but little in common
with the ci-devant aristos who formed the hulk of the groups in the
courtyard. He looked up; the soldier was regarding him with obvious
amusement, and at sight of Armand's wild, anxious eyes he gave vent to a
coarse jest.

"Have I made a shrewd guess, citizen?" he said. "Is she among that lot?"

"I do not know where she is," said Armand almost involuntarily.

"Then why don't you find out?" queried the soldier.

The man was not speaking altogether unkindly. Armand, devoured with the
maddening desire to know, threw the last fragment of prudence to the
wind. He assumed a more careless air, trying to look as like a country
bumpkin in love as he could.

"I would like to find out," he said, "but I don't know where to inquire.
My sweetheart has certainly left her home," he added lightly; "some say
that she has been false to me, but I think that, mayhap, she has been
arrested."

"Well, then, you gaby," said the soldier good-humouredly, "go straight
to La Tournelle; you know where it is?"

Armand knew well enough, but thought it more prudent to keep up the air
of the ignorant lout.

"Straight down that first corridor on your right," explained the other,
pointing in the direction which he had indicated, "you will find the
guichet of La Tournelle exactly opposite to you. Ask the concierge for
the register of female prisoners--every freeborn citizen of the Republic
has the right to inspect prison registers. It is a new decree framed for
safeguarding the liberty of the people. But if you do not press half a
livre in the hand of the concierge," he added, speaking confidentially,
"you will fin