e!"

The miserable man cowered back to the wall, frightened to the core of
his heart. The Girondins conferred a while in whispers, two of their
number assisting Pierre to cross the barrier. Suddenly on their talk
there broke--and Michel trembled anew as he heard it--a loud knocking at
the door. All started and stood listening and waiting. A voice cried:
"Open! open! in the name of the law!"

"We have lingered too long," Barbaroux muttered. "I should have thought
of this. It is the Mayor of Carhaix come to apprehend our friend."

Again the Girondins conferred together. At last, seeming to arrive at a
conclusion, they ranged themselves on either side of the door, and one
of their number opened it. A short, stout man, girt with a tricolour
sash, and wearing a huge sword, entered with an air of authority.
Blinded by the gush of light he saw, at his first entrance, nothing out
of the common; he was followed by four men armed with muskets.

Their appearance produced an extraordinary effect on Michel Tellier. As
they crossed the threshold one by one, the peasant leaned forward, his
face flushed, his eyes gleaming; and he counted them. They were only
five. And the others were twelve. He fell back, and from that moment his
belief in the Girondins' power was clinched.

"In the name of the law!" the mayor panted. He was a little out of
breath. "Why did you not----" Then he stopped abruptly, his mouth
remaining open. He found himself surrounded by a group of grim, silent
mutes, with arms in their hands; and in a twinkling it flashed into his
mind that these were the eleven chiefs of the Girondins, whom he had
been warned to keep watch for, and to take. He had come to catch a
pigeon and had caught a crow. He turned pale and his eyes dropped. "Who
are--who are these gentlemen?" he stammered, in a tone suddenly and
ludicrously fallen.

"Some volunteers of Quimper, returning home," replied Barbaroux, with
ironical smoothness.

"You have your papers, citizens?" the mayor asked, mechanically; and he
took a step backwards towards the door, and looked over his shoulder.

"Here they are!" said Petion rudely, thrusting a packet into his hands.
"They are in order."

The mayor took them, and longing only to see the outside of the door,
pretended to look through them, his little heart going pit-a-pat within
him. "They seem to be in order," he assented, feebly. "I need not
trouble you further, citizens. I came here under a misapprehens