h moment, a chance
of salvation fled. He must decide and act without delay.

The abbe was a brave man. He darted to the door, and called the servants
who were standing in the hall and on the staircase.

When they were gathered around him:

"Listen to me, intently," said he, in that quick and imperious voice
that impresses one with the certainty of approaching peril, "and
remember that your master's life depends, perhaps, upon your discretion.
We can rely upon you, can we not?"

Every hand was raised as if to call upon God to witness their fidelity.

"In less than an hour," continued the priest, "the soldiers sent in
pursuit of the fugitives will be here. Not a word must be uttered in
regard to what has passed this evening. Everyone must be led to suppose
that I went away with the baron and returned alone. Not one of you
must have seen Mademoiselle Lacheneur. We are going to find a place of
concealment for her. Remember, my friends, if there is the slightest
suspicion of her presence here, all is lost. If the soldiers question
you, endeavor to convince them that Monsieur Maurice has not left the
house this evening."

He paused, trying to think if he had forgotten any precaution that human
prudence could suggest, then added:

"One word more; to see you standing about at this hour of the night will
awaken suspicion at once. But this is what I desire. We will plead in
justification, the alarm that you feel at the absence of the baron, and
also the indisposition of madame--for madame is going to retire--she
will thus escape interrogation. And you, Maurice, run and change your
clothes; and, above all, wash your hands, and sprinkle some perfume upon
them."

All present were so impressed with the imminence of the danger, that
they were more than willing to obey the priest's orders.

Marie-Anne, as soon as she could be moved, was carried to a tiny room
under the roof. Mme. d'Escorval retired to her own apartment, and the
servants went back to the office.

Maurice and the abbe remained alone in the drawing-room, silent and
appalled by horrible forebodings.

The unusually calm face of the priest betrayed his terrible anxiety.
He now felt convinced that Baron d'Escorval was a prisoner, and all his
efforts were now directed toward removing any suspicion of complicity
from Maurice.

"This was," he reflected, "the only way to save the father."

A violent peal of the bell attached to the gate interrupted his
meditation