r_," she whispered, her eyes intensely searching into his.

"_Au revoir, ma chere_," he answered, mastering his voice with all his
strength.

Then she and Dominique left the house.

CHAPTER XLIX

CIVIC VIRTUE

Dominique and the citizeness proceeded as unobtrusively as they could
along the Rue Honore. He hurried her past the Rue Florentin, down which
he knew, without looking, was to be seen the tall machine of execution
on the Place de la Revolution.

At first they passed few people, but on approaching the centre of the
City they saw numbers in front of the _cafes_ and even going to the
theatre. Flashy carriages of thievish men who had enriched themselves
under the new conditions, rolled frequently by. The basis of their
power, the squalid element with jealous, insolent eyes, also increased
on the pavements.

At the Rue de la Monnaie they turned towards the Quays. Just as they
were turning, a young woman, whose head was covered with a shawl, glided
from a gateway and addressed them.

They both started suspiciously, but the poor creature proved to be only
seeking charity, and Cyrene, struck by a certain desperation in her
tone, turned to give her a couple of _sous_. In passing the coins their
eyes met, and the mendicant started.

"Great God! Madame Baroness, you do not know me?"

The voice, though altered in quality, recalled other times. Her features
became recognisable, and the identity of their owner came over Cyrene.

"Mademoiselle de Richeval!" she gasped.

The sprightly companion of princesses was begging her bread. Her wit and
beauty had disappeared, the once bright eyes were sharp, the once
blooming cheeks were wrinkled and shrunk.

"Ladies, remember the spies," said Dominique.

"Go to our house, my dear," Cyrene whispered hastily. "It is No. 409,
Rue Honore, you will get supper there, and await us."

"409, Rue Honore," the other repeated, and hastened to the promised
food.

Continuing, the two reached the Hotel de Ville at seven o'clock. Though
early, the spacious building was lighted from attic to basement, and
slipping in through a swarm of _Sans-culottes_ who surrounded the
doorsteps, they entered the great hall. As they were going in the
"Marseillaise" began to be pounded, and the entry, from the opposite
direction, of persons of much more importance than they, attracted the
eyes of the men and women who smoked and knitted round the hall. The
incomers were the President and heads