ght of them--and then only--he warmed to
the task before him; then only he could think of it without a shiver and
without distaste. And not the less because on that side, in their
suspicion, in their grudging jealousy, in their unwinking integrity, lay
the one difficulty.

A difficulty exasperated by the insult that, in a moment of bitter
disappointment, he had flung in Baudichon's face. That hasty word had
revealed to the speaker a lack of self-control that terrified him, even
as it had revealed to Baudichon a glimpse of something underneath the
Fourth Syndic's dry exterior that might well set a man thinking as well
as talking. This matter Blondel saw plainly he must deal with at once,
or it might do harm. To absent himself from the next day's council might
rouse a storm beyond his power to weather, or short of that might give
rise at a later period to a dangerous amount of gossip and conjecture.

He was early at the meeting, therefore, but to his surprise found it in
session before the hour. This, and the fact that the hubbub of voices
and discussion died down at his entrance--died down and was succeeded by
a chilling silence--put him on his guard. He had not come unprepared for
opposition; to meet it he had wound himself to a pitch, telling himself
that after this all would be easy; that he had this one peril to face,
this one obstacle to surmount, and having succeeded might rest.
Nevertheless, as he passed up the Great Council Chamber amid that
silence, and met strange looks on faces which were wont to smile, his
courage for one moment, even in that familiar scene--conscience makes
cowards of all--wavered. His smile grew sickly, his nerves seemed
suddenly unstrung, his knees shook under him. It was a dreadful instant
of physical weakness, of mental terror, under the eyes of all. To
himself, he seemed to stand still; to be self-betrayed, self-convicted!

Then--and so brief was the moment of weakness no eye detected it--he
moved on to his place, and with his usual coolness took his seat. He
looked round.

"You are early," he said, ignoring the glances, hostile or doubtful,
that met his gaze. "The hour has barely struck, I believe?"

"We were of opinion," Fabri answered, with a dry cough, "that minutes
were of value."

"Ah!"

"That not even one must be lost, Messer Blondel!"

"In doing?" Blondel asked in a negligent tone, well calculated to annoy
those who were eager in the matter. "In doing what, if I may ask