nterfere
again.

"Ah!" It was an exclamation of satisfaction from the Commissioner. "I
imagined that you would change your minds. I shall await you, Citizen,
in the garden in five minutes' time."

"I shall not keep you waiting, Monsieur," was the Vicomte's answer.

Very formally La Boulaye bowed and left the room accompanied by the
officer and followed by the soldier.

"Mon Dieu!" gasped the Marquise, fanning herself as the door closed
after the Republicans. "Open me a window or I shall stifle! How the
place reeks with them. I am a calm woman, Messieurs, but, on my honour,
had he addressed any of you by his odious title of 'citizen' again, I
swear that I had struck him with my own hands."

There were some that laughed. But Mademoiselle was not of those.

Her eyes travelled to her brother's pale face and weakly frame, and her
glance was such a glance as we bend upon the beloved dead, for in him
she saw one who was going inevitably to his death.

CHAPTER VII. LA BOULAYE DISCHARGES A DEBT

Along the northern side of the Chateau ran a terrace bordered by a
red sandstone balustrade, and below this the Italian garden, so called
perhaps in consequence of the oddly clipped box-trees, its only feature
that suggested Italy. At the far end of this garden there was a strip of
even turf that might have been designed for a fencing ground, and which
Caron knew of old. Thither he led Captain Juste, and there in the
pale sunshine of that February morning they awaited the arrival of the
Vicomte and his sponsor.

But the minutes went by and still they waited-five, ten, fifteen minutes
elapsed, yet no one came. Juste was on the point of returning within to
seek the reason of this delay when steps sounded on the terrace above.
But they were accompanied by the rustle of a gown, and presently it
was Mademoiselle who appeared before them. The two men eyed her with
astonishment, which in the case of La Boulaye, was tempered by another
feeling.

"Monsieur la Boulaye," said she, her glance wandering towards the
Captain, "may I speak with you alone?"

Outwardly impassive the Commissioner bowed.

"Your servant, Citoyenne," said he, removing his cocked hat. "Juste,
will you give us leave?"

"You will find me on the terrace when you want me, Citizen-deputy,"
answered the officer, and saluting, he departed.

For a moment or two after he was gone Suzanne and Caron stood
confronting each other in silence. She seemed smitten wit