you think, then,
that I am so lightly to be baulked? Name of God? Who are you, La
Boulaye, what are you, that you dare thwart me in this?" He looked at
the young man's impassive face to curb his anger. "Come, Caron," he
added, in a wheedling tone. "Tell me what you have done with him?"

"I have already told you," answered the other quietly.

As swift and suddenly as it changed before did Robespierre's humour
change again upon receiving that reply. With a snort of anger he strode
to the door and threw it open.

"Citizen-lieutenant!" he called, in a rasping voice.

"Here, Citizen," came a voice from below.

"Give yourself the trouble of coming up with a couple of men. Now,
Citizen La Boulaye," he said, more composedly, as he turned once more
to the young man, "since you will not learn reason you may mount the
guillotine in his place."

Caron paled slightly as he inclined his head in silent submission. At
that moment the officer entered with his men at his heels.

"Arrest me that traitor," Maximilien commanded, pointing a shaking
finger at Caron. "To the Luxembourg with him."

"If you will wait while I change my dressing-gown for a coat,
Citizen-officer," said La Boulaye composedly, "I shall be grateful."
Then, turning to his official, "Brutus," he called, "attend me."

He had an opportunity while Brutus was helping him into his coat to
whisper in the fellow's ear:

"Let her know."

More he dared not say, but to his astute official that was enough, and
with a sorrowful face he delivered to Suzanne, a few hours later, the
news of La Boulaye's definite arrest and removal to the Luxembourg.

At Brutus's description of the scene there had been 'twixt Robespierre
and Caron she sighed heavily, and her lashes grew wet.

"Poor, faithful La Boulaye!" she murmured. "God aid him now."

She bore the news to d'Ombreval, and upon hearing it he tossed aside
the book that had been engrossing him and looked up, a sudden light of
relief spreading on his weak face.

"It is the end," said he, as though no happier consummation could have
attended matters, "and we have no more to wait for. Shall we set out
to-day?" he asked, and urged the wisdom of making haste.

"I hope and I pray God that it may not be the end, as you so fondly deem
it, Monsieur," she answered him. "But whether it is the end or not, I am
resolved to wait until there is no room for any hope."

"As you will," he sighed wearily, "The issue of it all will pro