, he had succeeded in
laying for her.

He was not the least surprised at that. He knew human nature, feminine
nature, far too well, ever to have been in doubt for a moment that
Marguerite would follow her husband without calculating either costs or
risks.

Ye gods! the irony of it all! Had she not been called the cleverest
woman in Europe at one time? Chauvelin himself had thus acclaimed her,
in those olden days, before she and he became such mortal enemies, and
when he was one of the many satellites that revolved round brilliant
Marguerite St. Just. And to-night, when a sergeant of the town guards
brought him news of her capture, he smiled grimly to himself; the
cleverest woman in Europe had failed to perceive the trap laid
temptingly open for her.

Once more she had betrayed her husband into the hands of those who would
not let him escape a second time. And now she had done it with her eyes
open, with loving, passionate heart which ached for self-sacrifice, and
only succeeded in imperilling the loved one more hopelessly than before.

The sergeant was waiting for orders. Citizen Chauvelin had come to
Boulogne, armed with more full and more autocratic powers than any
servant of the new republic had ever been endowed with before.
The governor of the town, the captain of the guard, the fort and
municipality were all as abject slaves before him.

As soon as he had taken possession of the quarters organized for him in
the town hall, he had asked for a list of prisoners who for one cause or
another were being detained pending further investigations.

The list was long and contained many names which were of not the
slightest interest to Chauvelin: he passed them over impatiently.

"To be released at one," he said curtly.

He did not want the guard to be burdened with unnecessary duties, nor
the prisons of the little sea-port town to be inconveniently encumbered.
He wanted room, space, air, the force and intelligence of the entire
town at his command for the one capture which meant life and revenge to
him.

"A woman--name unknown--found in possession of a forged passport in
the name of Celine Dumont, maid to the Citizeness Desiree
Candeille--attempted to land--was interrogated and failed to give
satisfactory explanation of herself--detained in room No. 6 of the
Gayole prison."

This was one of the last names on the list, the only one of any
importance to Citizen Chauvelin. When he read it he nearly drove his
nail