ted, Citoyenne. My men are close at hand,
and we can summon them if there be the need."

Reassured she rose, and at the same moment a knock sounded on the door.
She went to open it, and from his seat by the hearth La Boulaye heard a
gentle, mincing voice that was oddly familiar to him.

"Madame," it said, "we are two poor, lost wayfarers, and we crave
shelter for the night. We will pay you handsomely."

"I am desolated that I have no room, Messieur," she answered, with
courteous firmness.

"Pardi!" interpolated another voice. "We need no room. A bundle of straw
and a corner is all we seek. Of your charity, Madame, is this a night on
which to leave a dog out of doors?"

A light of recollection leaped suddenly to La Boulaye's eyes, and with a
sudden gasp he stooped to the hearth.

"But I cannot, Messieurs," the woman was saying, when the second voice
interrupted her.

"I see your husband by the fire, Madame. Let us hear what he has to
say."

The woman coloured to the roots of her hair. She stepped back a pace,
and was about to answer them when, chancing to glance in La Boulaye's
direction, she paused. He had risen, and was standing with his back to
the fire. There was a black smudge across his face, which seemed to act
as a mask, and his dark eyes glowed with an intensity of meaning which
arrested her attention, and silenced the answer which was rising to her
lips.

In the brief pause the new-comers had crossed the threshold, and stood
within the rustic chamber. The first of these was he whose gentle voice
La Boulaye had recognised--old M. des Cadoux, the friend of the Marquis
de Bellecour. His companion, to the Deputy's vast surprise, was none
other than the bearded courier who had that morning delivered him at
Boisvert the letter from Robespierre. What did these two together, and
upon such manifest terms of equality? That, it should be his business to
discover.

"Come in, Messieurs," he bade them, assuming the role of host. "We are
unused to strangers, and Mathilde there is timid of robbers. Draw near
the fire and dry yourselves. We will do the best we can for you. We are
poor people, Messieurs; very poor."

"I have already said that we will pay you handsomely my friend," quoth
Des Cadoux, coming forward with his companion. "Do your best for us and
you shall not regret it. Have you aught to eat in the house?"

The woman was standing by the wall, her face expressing bewilderment and
suspicion. Suspicious