n you will accept it."

"No, I will not do that. Give me an unconditional certificate of safety
and I will believe you."

"Of what use were that to you?" asked Chauvelin.

"I believe my capture to be of more importance to you than that of
Mademoiselle Lange," said Armand quietly.

"I will use the certificate of safety for myself or one of my friends if
you break your word to me anent Mademoiselle Lange."

"H'm! the reasoning is not illogical, citizen," said Chauvelin, whilst a
curious smile played round the corners of his thin lips. "You are quite
right. You are a more valuable asset to us than the charming lady who, I
hope, will for many a day and year to come delight pleasure-loving Paris
with her talent and her grace."

"Amen to that, citizen," said Armand fervently.

"Well, it will all depend on you, sir! Here," he added, coolly running
over some papers on Heron's desk until he found what he wanted, "is an
absolutely unconditional certificate of safety. The Committee of General
Security issue very few of these. It is worth the cost of a human life.
At no barrier or gate of any city can such a certificate be disregarded,
nor even can it be detained. Allow me to hand it to you, citizen, as a
pledge of my own good faith."

Smiling, urbane, with a curious look that almost expressed amusement
lurking in his shrewd, pale eyes, Chauvelin handed the momentous
document to Armand.

The young man studied it very carefully before he slipped it into the
inner pocket of his coat.

"How soon shall I have news of Mademoiselle Lange?" he asked finally.

"In the course of to-morrow. I myself will call on you and redeem that
precious document in person. You, on the other hand, will hold yourself
at my disposition. That's understood, is it not?"

"I shall not fail you. My lodgings are--"

"Oh! do not trouble," interposed Chauvelin, with a polite bow; "we can
find that out for ourselves."

Heron had taken no part in this colloquy. Now that Armand prepared to
go he made no attempt to detain him, or to question his colleague's
actions. He sat by the table like a log; his mind was obviously a blank
to all else save to his own terrors engendered by the events of this
night.

With bleary, half-veiled eyes he followed Armand's progress through
the room, and seemed unaware of the loud slamming of the outside door.
Chauvelin had escorted the young man past the first line of sentry, then
he took cordial leave of him.

"Your