robably being sought for by his enemies at
this moment.

Left alone, madame lay down on a couch in the salon itself, to be
ready for any emergency. It was a hot summer night, and the glass doors
opening upon the luxuriant garden stood wide to admit the air. On that
air came intermittently from the distance sounds of the continuing
horrible activities of the populace, the aftermath of that bloody day.

Mme. de Plougastel lay there, listening to those sounds for upwards of
an hour, thanking Heaven that for the present at least the disturbances
were distant, dreading lest at any moment they should occur nearer at
hand, lest this Bondy section in which her hotel was situated should
become the scene of horrors similar to those whose echoes reached her
ears from other sections away to the south and west.

The couch occupied by the Countess lay in shadow; for all the lights in
that long salon had been extinguished with the exception of a cluster
of candles in a massive silver candle branch placed on a round marquetry
table in the middle of the room--an island of light in the surrounding
gloom.

The timepiece on the overmantel chimed melodiously the hour of ten,
and then, startling in the suddenness with which it broke the immediate
silence, another sound vibrated through the house, and brought madame
to her feet, in a breathless mingling of hope and dread. Some one
was knocking sharply on the door below. Followed moments of agonized
suspense, culminating in the abrupt invasion of the room by the footman
Jacques. He looked round, not seeing his mistress at first.

"Madame! Madame!" he panted, out of breath.

"What is it, Jacques!" Her voice was steady now that the need for
self-control seemed thrust upon her. She advanced from the shadows
into that island of light about the table. "There is a man below. He is
asking... he is demanding to see you at once."

"A man?" she questioned.

"He... he seems to be an official; at least he wears the sash of office.
And he refuses to give any name; he says that his name would convey
nothing to you. He insists that he must see you in person and at once."

"An official?" said madame.

"An official," Jacques repeated. "I would not have admitted him, but
that he demanded it in the name of the Nation. Madame, it is for you to
say what shall be done. Robert is with me. If you wish it... whatever it
may be..."

"My good Jacques, no, no." She was perfectly composed. "If this man
inten