n,
urged on by me, could obtain a passport for him to quit the city. But I
can answer for one for the brother of Madame Calvert, wife of the former
secretary of Monsieur Jefferson, friend of the present Minister
Plenipotentiary from the United States of America to France."

Mr. Morris looked at the man keenly.

"And suppose this thing were done--I can rely upon you?"

"Absolutely. Attend a moment," he said, and, going back to where Danton
still sat at his desk, he spoke with him in low and earnest tones. From
where Mr. Morris stood he could see Danton's expression change from
sternness and anger to astonishment and interest. In a few moments, with
a low exclamation, he got up and, followed by Bertrand, came toward Mr.
Morris.

"Bertrand has just told me facts which alter this case--which impel me
to aid Monsieur d'Azay if possible," he said; and then, turning to
Adrienne, who, pale with anxiety and terror, had risen from her seat and
drawn near, he went on: "I will use all my power to be of service to the
wife of the man who once showed a courtesy to mine." At his words the
girl drew back and blushed deeply over her whole fair face. "I swore
that I would reward him if possible, and I do so to-day. I also swore to
reward his companion, Monsieur de Beaufort--the time is not yet come for
that, but it will," and he smiled in so terrible a fashion that Adrienne
could have cried out in fear. The fierce malignity of his look so filled
Mr. Morris with disgust that he could scarce bear to speak to him.

"We will return at six," he said, at length, and leading Adrienne to the
door that the painful interview might end.

"At six," said Danton.

They made their way out and found Mr. Morris's coach. In the carriage
the courage which had sustained the young girl gave way.

Mr. Morris laid a kindly hand upon her arm. "Be calm. A way is found to
save d'Azay, and surely it is no great trial to become an American
subject," he said, smiling a little and looking keenly at Adrienne.

"I do not know how I shall dare to ask this great sacrifice of him,"
said she, in a low tone. "True, he risked his life for d'Azay, but that
is not so great a sacrifice as to marry a woman he does not love."

"I think he does love you still," said Mr. Morris, very gently. "He is
not like some of us--he is not one to forget easily. He is silent and
constant. He has told me that he loved you."

But she only shook her head. "I have no hope that he loves