There was nothing strange or even unexpected in the man's presence here;
and yet somehow it had made the whole, awful reality more tangible, more
wholly unforgettable. Marguerite remembered his abject words to her,
when first she had seen him at the Richmond fete: he said that he
had fallen into disgrace, that, having failed in his service to the
Republic, he had been relegated to a subordinate position, pushed aside
with contumely to make room for better, abler men.

Well! all that was a lie, of course, a cunning method of gaining access
into her house; of that she had already been convinced, when Candeille
provoked the esclandre which led to the challenge.

That on French soil he seemed in anything but a subsidiary position,
that he appeared to rule rather than to obey, could in no way appear to
Marguerite in the nature of surprise.

As the actress had been a willing tool in the cunning hands of
Chauvelin, so were probably all these people around her. Where others
cringed in the face of officialism, the ex-ambassador had stepped forth
as a master: he had shown a badge, spoken a word mayhap, and the man in
the tent who had made other people tremble, stood up deferentially and
obeyed all commands.

It was all very simple and very obvious: but Marguerite's mind has been
asleep, and it was the sight of the sable-clad little figure which had
roused it from its happy torpor.

In a moment now her brain was active and alert, and presently it seemed
to her as if another figure--taller than those around--had crossed the
barrier immediately in the wake of Chauvelin. Then she chided herself
for her fancies!

It could not be her husband. Not yet! He had gone by water, and would
scarce be in Boulogne before the morning!

Ah! now at last came the turn of the second-class passengers! There was
a general bousculade and the human bundle began to move. Marguerite lost
sight of the tent and its awe-inspiring appurtenances: she was a mere
unit again in this herd on the move. She too progressed along slowly,
one step at a time; it was wearisome and she was deadly tired. She was
beginning to form plans now that she had arrived in France. All along
she had made up her mind that she would begin by seeking out the Abbe
Foucquet, for he would prove a link 'twixt her husband and herself. She
knew that Percy would communicate with the abbe; had he not told
her that the rescue of the devoted old man from the clutches of the
Terrorists woul