man who looked like an old
soldier spoke.

"Gudel," he said, "we believe you. For ten years, over and over again,
you have proved to us your devotion and your honesty."

Iron Jaws blushed with pleasure.

"Fanfar will be here presently. You will find him ready to do your
bidding, and to risk his life in the performance of his duty."

"You know the situation," resumed one of the men; "our enemies are
already quarreling among themselves, our friends are redoubling their
efforts. General Foy has stigmatized the purchasers of votes and
rendered their names infamous. Roger Collard has distinctly asked a
terrible question--'where will you be in seven years?' The excitement
is general, and we must send a man of activity to Paris--a man who is
young and active, who is willing to make any sacrifice. Can Fanfar be
this man?"

Gudel contented himself with a simple affirmative.

"Then," said the old soldier, drawing out a pocketbook, "here are papers
so important that were they to fall into the hands of our adversaries,
our heads would be in danger and our plans ruined. These papers Fanfar
must carry to Paris; he will give them to the committee, who in their
turn will give him orders, which he is to execute without hesitation or
curiosity. Can you answer for Fanfar?"

"Upon my honor, I can."

The two men continued to talk in a low voice with Gudel, and then they
went out. Absorbed in thought, they did not notice a man who started
back when they appeared. Robeccal had heard every syllable.

Cyprien now arrived at the inn. White, trembling and breathless, he
could scarcely reply to the questions addressed to him. He believed the
Marquis to be dead, and was finally able to tell his story.

Schwann began to be very anxious. Where was Fanfar? Suddenly a horse was
heard coming at full speed. Schwann and Caillette rushed to the door.
They uttered a simultaneous cry of surprise. It was the Marquis.

"And Fanfar? Where is he?"

"He is coming. But I have not a moment to lose. Take me to Gudel's
chamber."

The tone was too peremptory for Schwann to hesitate; being reassured,
too, in regard to Fanfar, he was ready to obey without stopping to ask
the meaning of this extreme haste. Cyprien started forward, but the
Marquis gave him a look that commanded silence, and as he passed, said
in a low voice:

"Patience!"

The door closed. Then Cyprien felt a hand on his shoulder and recognized
the man whose assistance he had endeavore