"As useless as the wooden toy weapon of a boy," was the answer. "To-day I am of no account. At any moment I am likely to be seized by some of the very men who have been my supporters, some trumped up charge preferred against me, and then--then forty-eight hours or less may suffice to close the account."

"You are in immediate danger?" asked Barrington.

"A condition I share with nearly every honest man in France. It is not known that I am in Paris. I am supposed to be with the army. I came secretly, having affairs to settle in case of the worst happening. I may find it necessary to cross the frontier, as so many others have done, and after the part I have played am not likely to find much welcome."

"You know, monsieur, that I would do anything to help you."

"My dear Richard, I know that; but you must not overburden yourself. By bringing mademoiselle here you have not brought her into a place of safety. You should have persuaded her to stay in Beauvais."

"I did my best."

"And for the moment you have saved her. That is something. Now set your fertile brain to work, Richard, and scheme how to get her back to Beauvais again."

"But Bruslart--"

Lafayette silenced him with a look, as the door opened and Jeanne entered. She had washed the stains from her face, and changed her attire. Both men rose, and Lafayette placed a chair for her.

"You have braved so much, mademoiselle, that one does not fear to speak the truth to you," said the Marquis. "I have been explaining to Monsieur Barrington that this house is no safe refuge for you. Things have changed rapidly since you left Paris."

"I know. We have not been without news at Beauvais," said Jeanne.

"I would to G.o.d you had never been persuaded to leave so safe a retreat.

I am aware, mademoiselle, that you dislike me. You would call me a renegade from my order. It is true. I had dreams of a reformed, a regenerated France; my strivings toward these dreams have ended in failure."

"I think I can refrain from disliking a man who has the courage of his opinions," said Jeanne, quietly. "Had I had my own way I should not have fled from Paris. We were too easily alarmed, and our fear placed a weapon in the hands of our enemies."

"At least, mademoiselle, accept the position now. The weapon is in the hands of the people, and they are using it. Those who would have held them in check are powerless. Be advised. Let me, with the help of my friend here, do my best to get you safely back to Beauvais. After last night's adventure, you will be looked for high and low. While the hunt in the city is keen, it may be easy to slip out un.o.bserved. Every moment we delay the difficulty increases."

"Has not Monsieur Barrington informed you of my purpose in coming to Paris?"

"He has."

"Do you imagine I shall go without fulfilling that purpose? Monsieur de Lafayette, I thank you for your advice, which I know is honestly given.

I thank you for having me here, even for so short a time, for I know the risks you run. I have many friends in Paris. Will you help me to reach one of them?"

"What friends?"

"Monsieur Normand."

"He has been in the Conciergerie some weeks, mademoiselle."

"Madame de Lentville, then."

"Also in prison," answered Lafayette. "She was caught in her endeavor to leave Paris less than a week ago."

"Monsieur Bersac," said Jeanne, but not speaking so readily.

"In heaven, mademoiselle. The dwellers in the suburbs beyond the Seine remembered that he once called them idlers, accused them of thriving on other men's industry. The people have a long memory."

"They killed him?"

"At the door of his own house. There is a lantern over it."

There was silence for some moments. The color, faded from Jeanne's face, and the tears came into her eyes. She forced them back with a great effort.

"There is the Vicomte de Morlieux," she said, suddenly.

"Alas, mademoiselle, only last night he was the center of a yelling mob which pa.s.sed beneath these windows bearing him to the Temple. He is accused, I believe, of a.s.sisting the King's flight, and with showing courage when the Tuileries was attacked. Surely you understand your danger?"

Barrington had looked from one to the other as they spoke, admiring the woman's courage, wondering if it were necessary for Monsieur le Marquis to give her such precise information. He knew she was courageous, but was it wise to try her so severely as this?

"You have said the people remember," Jeanne said slowly; "they will recollect, then, that I have done something for the poor. I never thought to boast of my charity, but I will make capital out of it."

"Unfortunately, the people do not remember good works so easily,"

Lafayette answered. "Believe me, such faith is only grasping at a straw."

"My faith is strong. I shall find a lodging in Paris. I have been a market woman already; if necessary, I can sink to a lower level. Of my own will I shall not leave Paris again until I have contrived to set Lucien Bruslart free."

"He is not a prisoner, mademoiselle. I have already sent for him."

"Is that safe?" asked Barrington, quickly. "For you, I mean?"

"I think so. At any rate, it was necessary."

"Do you say he is not a prisoner?" said Jeanne.

"He may be here at any moment," said Lafayette.

"Have we been deceived?" Barrington exclaimed.

"I cannot tell," Lafayette answered. "It is true that Monsieur Bruslart was in the Conciergerie, but he speedily convinced the authorities that a mistake had been made. I believe he is considered a thorough patriot now."

Jeanne looked at Barrington, who met her gaze unflinchingly.

"I have told you all I know," he said quietly, answering the question in her eyes.

There was a silence which was broken by the heavy opening and closing of the street door.

"Doubtless that is Monsieur Bruslart," said Lafayette. "You would wish to be alone with him, mademoiselle, so we will leave you for a little while. I can only hope that his advice will support mine. You may count on me to do all I can to secure your safety."

Barrington made no promise as he followed the Marquis from the room, but his eyes met Jeanne's again for a moment. A curious and sudden conviction came to her that she had at least one friend in Paris, who was able and willing to help her. She was encouraged and strengthened.

For an instant she seemed to feel the grasp of his hand as she had done when she ran beside him last night.

Lucien Bruslart's brain had worked busily since the message reached him.

He was glad Pauline had not been with him to hear it. She was such a jealous little termagant. He entered the room the moment after Lafayette and Barrington had left it by another door.

"Jeanne!"