combined against the life of the republic. Paris is swarming with
troops. There will be barricades and fighting in the streets,
mademoiselle."

Fouchette recalled the fragments of conversations
overheard,--conversations between the Superieure and Father Sebastien
and certain visitors. Beyond this casual information she knew
absolutely nothing of what was going on in the outer world. He
misconstrued her silence.

"Whom do you know in Paris, mademoiselle?--somebody powerful enough to
protect you?"

"Oh, yes, monsieur," she promptly answered. "I know one man,--one who
sent me here,--who is powerful----"

"May I ask----"

"The Chief of the Secret Police," she said, lowering her tone to a
confidential scale,--"Inspector Loup."

"Oh, pardon, mademoiselle!" quickly responded the young man. "Pardon!
I meant it for your welfare, not to inquire into your business. Oh,
no; do not think me capable of that!"

He appeared to be somewhat frightened at what he had done, but became
reassured when she passed it with easy good nature.

"It is important, then, mademoiselle, that you reach Paris at once?"

"It is very important, monsieur."

"The royalist scoundrels are very active," he said. "They must be
headed off--exposed!"

He spoke enthusiastically, seizing Fouchette's hand warmly. That
demoiselle, who was floundering around in a position she did not
understand, walked along resolved to keep her peace. He assured her
that she might fully rely upon him and his in this emergency. Let her
put him to the test.

The enigmatical situation was more confounding to Fouchette when she
was being overwhelmed with the subservient attentions of the young
man's family; but the less she comprehended the more she held her
tongue. They were of the class moderately well-to-do and steeped in
politics up to the neck.

Fouchette knew next to nothing about politics. Only that France was a
republic and that many were dissatisfied with that form of government;
that some wanted the empire, and others the restoration of the kings,
and still others anything but existing things. Having never been
called upon to form an opinion, Fouchette had no opinion on the
subject. She did not care a snap what kind of a government ruled,--it
could make no difference to her.

Coming in contact with all of this enthusiasm, she now knew that Le
Bon Pasteur was royalist for some reason; and she shrewdly guessed,
without the assistance of this family conviction,