eanwhile, she had best return
immediately to her carriage. He went to the door to call Guyot, but she
stayed him.

"No, no, Monsieur," she exclaimed. "I will not pass through the
common-room again in that fellow's company. They are all in there,
carousing, and--and I dare not."

As if to confirm her words, now that he held the door open, he caught
some sounds of mirth and the drone of voices from below.

"Come with me, then," said he, taking up one of the candles. "I will
escort you."

Together they descended the narrow staircase, La Boulaye going first, to
guide her, since two might not go abreast. At the foot there was a door,
which he opened, and then, at the end of a short passage--in which the
drone of voices sounded very loud and in particular one, cracked voice
that was raised in song--they gained the door of the common-room. As La
Boulaye pushed it open they came upon a scene of Bacchanalian revelry.
On a chair that had been set upon the table they beheld Mother Capoulade
enthroned like a Goddess of Liberty, and wearing a Phrygian cap on her
dishevelled locks. Her yellow cheeks were flushed and her eyes watery,
whilst hers was the crazy voice that sang.

Around the table, in every conceivable attitude of abandonment, sat
Captain Charlot's guard--every man of the ten--and with them the six men
and the corporal of La Boulaye's escort, all more or less in a condition
of drunkenness.

"Le jour de gloire est arrive?" sang the croaking voice of Dame
Capoulade, and there it stopped abruptly upon catching sight of La
Boulaye and his companion in the doorway. Mademoiselle shivered out of
loathing; but La Boulaye felt his pulses quickened with hope, for surely
all this was calculated to assist him in his purpose.

At the abrupt interruption of the landlady's version of the
"Marseillaise" the men swung round, and upon seeing the Deputy they
sought in ludicrous haste to repair the disorder of their appearance.

"So!" thundered Caron. "This is the watch you keep? This is how you are
to be trusted? And you, Guyot," he continued, pointing his finger at the
man. "Did I not bid you await my orders? Is this how you wait? You see
that I am compelled to reconduct the Citoyenne myself, for I might have
called you in vain all night."

Guyot came forward sheepishly, and a trifle unsteady in his gait.

"I did not hear you call, Citizen," he muttered.

"It had been a miracle if you had with this din," answered La Boulaye.