" said I; "nor have I any
secret cause for fear--whatever you may have. My business is of another
kind. This morning, in passing out to his carriage, he dropped his
pocket-book, which I picked up. Its contents may well be of a kind that
should not be read by other eyes than his own. My request is, then, that
you will seal it up before me, and then send some one along with me,
while I restore it to its owner."

"Is this a snare--what secret mischief have we here?" said Boivin, half
aloud, as he wiped the cold drops of perspiration from his forehead.

"Any mishap that follows will depend upon your refusal to do what I
ask."

"How so--I never refused it; you dare not tell M. Robespierre that I
refused, sirrah?"

"I will tell him nothing that is untrue," said I, calmly; for already a
sense of power had gifted me with composure. "If M. Robespierre--"

"Who speaks of me here?" cried that identical personage, as he dashed
hurriedly into the room, and then, not waiting for the reply, went on,
"You must send out your scouts on every side--I lost my pocket-book as I
left this a while ago."

"It is here, sir," said I, presenting it at once.

"How--where was it found--in whose keeping has it been, boy?"

"In mine only; I took it from the ground the same moment that you
dropped it, and then came here to place it in M. Boivin's hands."

"Who has taken care of it since that time," continued Robespierre, with
a slow and sneering accentuation on every word.

"The pocket-book has never left my possession since it quitted yours,"
was my reply.

"Just so," broke in Boivin, now slowly recovering from his terror. "Of
its contents I know nothing; nor have I sought to know any thing."

Robespierre looked at me, as if to corroborate this statement, and I
nodded my head in acquiescence.

"Who is your father, boy?"

"I have none--he was guillotined."

"His name?"

"Tiernay."

"Ah, I remember; he was called L'Irlandais."

"The same."

"A famous Royalist was that same Tiernay, and, doubtless, contrived to
leave a heritage of his opinions to his son."

"He left me nothing--I have neither house, nor home, nor even bread to
eat."

"But you have a head to plan, and a heart to feel, youngster; and it is
better that fellows like you should not want a dinner. Boivin, look to
it that he is taken care of. In a few days I will relieve you of the
charge. You will remain here, boy; there are worse resting-places, I
promise you. The