detected their plot, they will hatch another plot, and instead of
working as at present under our eyes, they will work below the surface
with augmented care and secrecy: and will, perhaps, deceive us. No, my
friends"--throwing himself back in his chair with an air of patronage,
almost of contempt--for by dint of repeating his argument he had come to
believe it, and to plume himself upon it--"I look farther ahead than
you do, and for the sake of future gain am willing to take--present
responsibility."

They were silent awhile: his old mastery was beginning to assert itself.
Then Petitot spoke. "You take a heavy responsibility," he said, "a heavy
charge, Messer Blondel. What if harm come of it?"

Blondel shrugged his shoulders.

"You have no wife, Messer Blondel."

The Fourth Syndic stared. What did the man mean?

"You have no daughters," Petitot continued, a slight quaver in his tone.
"You have no little children, you sleep well of nights, the fall of
wood-ash does not rouse you, you do not listen when you awake. You do
not----" he paused, the last barrier of reserve broken down, the tears
standing openly in his eyes--"it is foolish perhaps--you do not yearn,
Messer Blondel, to take all you love in your arms, and shelter them and
cover them from the horrors that threaten us, the horrors that may fall
on us--any night! You do not"--he looked at Baudichon and the stout
man's face grew pale, he averted his eyes--"you do not dream of these
things, Messer Blondel, nor awake to fancy them, but we do. We do!" he
repeated in accents which went to the hearts of all, "day and night,
rising and lying down, waking and sleeping. And we--dare run no risks."

In the silence which followed Blondel's fingers tapped restlessly on the
table. He cleared his throat and voice.

"But there, I tell you there are no risks," he said. He was moved
nevertheless.

Petitot bowed, humbly for him. "Very good," he said. "I do not say that
you are not right. But----"

"And moment by moment I expect news. It might come at this minute, it
might come at any minute," the Syndic continued. With a glance at the
window he moved his chair, as if to shake off the spell that Petitot
had cast over him. "Besides--you do not expect the town to be taken in
an hour from now?"

"No."

"In broad daylight?"

Petitot shook his head, "God knows what I expect!" he murmured
despondently.

"When the information we have points to a night attack?"

Fabri nod