ou would be a match for them."

"I will take care of myself, Minette, but I do not think it likely that
he will renew the attempt. I could see that the man was a coward. He was
as pale as a sheet, partly with rage that he had been discovered and
exposed, but partly, I am sure, from fear too. I know you meant well,
dear, but I would rather that you had not done it. I love you best when
you are gentle and womanly. You almost frighten me when you blaze out
like that."

"I am sorry," she said, penitently; "but I felt for the time mad that
your life should have been attempted. I scarcely knew what I was saying.
Do you think that anyone could be gentle and mild when she had just
heard that her lover, her all, had been almost taken from her by a
cowardly blow. Still I know I am wrong. Do not be angry with me,
Arnold."

"I am not angry, dear," he said, and truly, for no man can feel really
angry with a woman for over-zeal in his own cause. "Do not let us say
any more about it; the fellow is not worth a thought. We shall probably
never hear of him again."

"I hope not, Arnold, but after what he tried to do I shall never feel
quite free from anxiety so long as you are in Paris. I wish your English
friend had handed him over to the police."

"I have no doubt he would have done so, but, as he told me, the idea
that the fellow was anything else than a street-ruffian did not come to
him till afterwards. You know what a business it is bringing a charge of
any kind here, and Hartington having himself punished him pretty
severely did not care for the trouble of carrying it further."

The news was rapidly spread in the cabarets by the men who had been
present at Minette's denunciation that Jean Diantre had endeavored to
assassinate the American, and much indignation was excited. Had he
drawn a knife upon a fellow-workman over their wine, the matter would
have excited but slight reprobation, but that he should have crept up in
the dark to attempt to assassinate one who was a denouncer of tyrants, a
representative of the great Republic, was voted to be infamous.

Various punishments were suggested as appropriate for such a crime, but
Jean did not appear at his accustomed haunts in the morning, and inquiry
showed that he had paid his rent the evening before, had sold his
furniture for a few francs to one of the other lodgers in the house, and
had left the quarter altogether. Resolutions were passed at the next
meeting denouncing him