eserve massacre," he cried, smiling, "is the
philosophic general rule; the sole exceptions are the true patriots. By
title of liberty, the possessions of all belong to them alone. And how
can we know the true patriot? _By his red cap and his red hand._"

Finally the long suspense of the applicants was brought to a close; the
secretary called the first on the list.

"Citizeness Montmorency."

At the once great name a silence fell over the place.

Then a murmur ran through the benches of the Jacobin women, while Cyrene
summoned her courage. The murmur was not long in taking shape.

"The Montmorencys are a brood of monsters," energetically called the
young Jacobiness, rising in her place.

"The aristocrat to the guillotine!" shouted a drunken man.

"The guillotine!"

"Yes, yes--to La Force immediately!"

These and similar cries resounded. They fell upon Cyrene's ears like
thunders of hostile artillery in a battle. Dominique sat quite still.
His mistress rose. Now that the instant of danger had actually come she
felt an inconquerable courage well up in her, which, as she stood with
brilliant eye and glowing cheek, made her very beautiful. This was not
in her favour with the envious knitters; but while they commented in
frightful language on her gentle build, the secretary said--"Are you the
person?"

"I am," she answered clearly.

"Are you not," he continued glancing at the audience for approbation,
"the late aristocrat Baroness of that name?"

"I am," she replied, in a tone still clearer and more fearless.

The President's face gleamed with admiration. He rang his bell sharply
and the clamours subsided. His glittering eyes devoured her features,
while he said--

"Does anybody know the citizeness and answer for her civism?" He
hurriedly added, "Adjourned; call the next."

Dominique caught her by the arm to make their exit, for though he could
not assign a reason for the Admiral's device of favour, he was ready to
take advantage of it.

As they started, one of the section members sprang up and exclaimed--

"I answer for the citizeness."

He was a man of less than thirty, and of open, enthusiastic expression,
and wore the uniform of a National Guard.

"You, citizen la Tour?" the Admiral exclaimed.

Cyrene eyed the member in grateful but intense wonder. She had never to
her knowledge seen him before.

"Yes, citizen President," he replied earnestly, "I answer for the
citizeness because she saved my li