," she said with a pretty moue of disdain, "that
will never do! You must not thus emphasise the end of every line; the
verses should flow more evenly, as thus...."

Heron had paused at the door. It was he who had thrown it open--he who,
followed by a couple of his sleuth-hounds, had thought to find here
the man denounced by de Batz as being one of the followers of that
irrepressible Scarlet Pimpernel. The obviously Parisian intonation of
the man kneeling in front of citizeness Lange in an attitude no ways
suggestive of personal admiration, and coolly reciting verses out of a
play, had somewhat taken him aback.

"What does this mean?" he asked gruffly, striding forward into the room
and glaring first at mademoiselle, then at Armand.

Mademoiselle gave a little cry of surprise.

"Why, if it isn't citizen Heron!" she cried, jumping up with a dainty
movement of coquetry and embarrassment. "Why did not Aunt Marie announce
you?... It is indeed remiss of her, but she is so ill-tempered on baking
days I dare not even rebuke her. Won't you sit down, citizen Heron?
And you, cousin," she added, looking down airily on Armand, "I pray you
maintain no longer that foolish attitude."

The febrileness of her manner, the glow in her cheeks were easily
attributable to natural shyness in face of this unexpected visit. Heron,
completely bewildered by this little scene, which was so unlike what he
expected, and so unlike those to which he was accustomed in the exercise
of his horrible duties, was practically speechless before the little
lady who continued to prattle along in a simple, unaffected manner.

"Cousin," she said to Armand, who in the meanwhile had risen to his
knees, "this is citizen Heron, of whom you have heard me speak. My
cousin Belhomme," she continued, once more turning to Heron, "is fresh
from the country, citizen. He hails from Orleans, where he has played
leading parts in the tragedies of the late citizen Corneille. But, ah
me! I fear that he will find Paris audiences vastly more critical
than the good Orleanese. Did you hear him, citizen, declaiming those
beautiful verses just now? He was murdering them, say I--yes, murdering
them--the gaby!"

Then only did it seem as if she realised that there was something amiss,
that citizen Heron had come to visit her, not as an admirer of her
talent who would wish to pay his respects to a successful actress, but
as a person to be looked on with dread.

She gave a quaint, ne