?"

"Let the walls be lined with men whom you can trust. I anticipate
neither trouble nor resistance. The whole thing is a simple formality to
which the Englishman has already intimated his readiness to submit. If
he changes his mind at the last moment there will be no Angelus rung, no
booming of the cannons or opening of the prison doors: there will be
no amnesty, and no free pardon. The woman will be at once conveyed
to Paris, and... But he'll not change his mind, friend Hebert," he
concluded in suddenly altered tones, and speaking quite lightly, "he'll
not change his mind."

The conversation between Chauvelin and his familiar had been carried on
in whispers: not that the Terrorist cared whether Marguerite overheard
or not, but whispering had become a habit with this man, whose tortuous
ways and subtle intrigues did not lend themselves to discussion in a
loud voice.

Chauvelin was sitting at the central table, just where he had been
last night when Sir Percy Blakeney's sudden advent broke in on his
meditations. The table had been cleared of the litter of multitudinous
papers which had encumbered it before. On it now there were only a
couple of heavy pewter candlesticks, with the tallow candles fixed ready
in them, a leather-pad, an ink-well, a sand-box and two or three quill
pens: everything disposed, in fact, for the writing and signing of the
letter.

Already in imagination, Chauvelin saw his impudent enemy, the bold and
daring adventurer, standing there beside that table and putting his name
to the consummation of his own infamy. The mental picture thus evoked
brought a gleam of cruel satisfaction and of satiated lust into the
keen, ferret-like face, and a smile of intense joy lit up the narrow,
pale-coloured eyes.

He looked round the room where the great scene would be enacted: two
soldiers were standing guard outside Marguerite's prison, two more at
attention near the door which gave on the passage: his own half-dozen
picked men were waiting his commands in the corridor. Presently the
whole room would be lined with troops, himself and Collot standing with
eyes fixed on the principal actor of the drama! Hebert with specially
selected troopers standing on guard over Marguerite!

No, no! he had left nothing to chance this time, and down below the
horses would be ready saddled, that were to convey Collot and the
precious document to Paris.

No! nothing was left to chance, and in either case he was bound to