hatever happens, do not return to
this house; hurry fast until you reach the lighted and populous quarters
of the city; even there be upon your guard. You are in a greater danger
than you fancy. Promise me you will not so much as look at my keepsake
until you are in a place of safety."

"I promise," replied Francis.

She put something loosely wrapped in a handkerchief into the young man's
hand; and at the same time, with more strength than he could have
anticipated, she pushed him into the street.

"Now, run!" she cried.

He heard the door close behind him, and the noise of the bolts being
replaced.

"My faith," said he, "since I have promised!"

And he took to his heels down the lane that leads into the Rue Ravignan.

He was not fifty paces from the house with the green blinds when the
most diabolical outcry suddenly arose out of the stillness of the night.
Mechanically he stood still; another passenger followed his example; in
the neighbouring floors he saw people crowding to the windows; a
conflagration could not have produced more disturbance in this empty
quarter. And yet it seemed to be all the work of a single man, roaring
between grief and rage, like a lioness robbed of her whelps; and Francis
was surprised and alarmed to hear his own name shouted with English
imprecations to the wind.

His first movement was to return to the house; his second, as he
remembered Miss Vandeleur's advice, to continue his flight with greater
expedition than before; and he was in the act of turning to put his
thought in action, when the Dictator, bare-headed, bawling aloud, his
white hair blowing about his head, shot past him like a ball out of the
cannon's mouth, and went careering down the street.

"That was a close shave," thought Francis to himself. "What he wants
with me, and why he should be so disturbed, I cannot think; but he is
plainly not good company for the moment, and I cannot do better than
follow Miss Vandeleur's advice."

So saying, he turned to retrace his steps, thinking to double and
descend by the Rue Lepic itself while his pursuer should continue to
follow after him on the other line of street. The plan was ill-devised:
as a matter of fact, he should have taken his seat in the nearest cafe,
and waited there until the first heat of the pursuit was over. But
besides that Francis had no experience and little natural aptitude for
the small war of private life, he was so unconscious of any evil on his
par