"But why?"

"They could not afford to remain here. They are not the first I have seen made bankrupt by Legrand."

"Ah! this hateful revolution!"

"It will end, mademoiselle. Already the dogs begin to tear one another, and when that happens, the quarry escapes."

"It will end, yes; but when? How long?"

"Before our purses run dry, I trust, mademoiselle," answered the Abbe, with a smile.

Jeanne had no fear for her own safety, but great compa.s.sion for others.

She began to hate the smiling face of Dr. Legrand. She heard something of the enormous sums he charged, and wondered what Lucien was paying for her, and how long he would have to pay it. He had said that at least a month must elapse before it would be safe to make an attempt to leave Paris. Unfortunately, he had to think of his own safety as well as hers.

Poor Lucien! She had braved Paris to help him, and her presence in the city had only added to his difficulty and danger. What was he doing day by day to end it all? Was Monsieur Barrington helping him? Lucien would be foolish not to accept the help of such a man, so brave, so full of resource, so----

These thoughts concerning Richard Barrington made Jeanne start a little.

She was suddenly conscious that she was comparing the two men, and that one seemed to take hold of her, hurry her along, as it were, and absorb her attention, until she could only bring her thoughts back to the other with an effort. Barrington stood out clear and distinct, definite in word and action, knowing what he intended to do and doing it without thinking of failure; Lucien was a shadow in comparison, indistinct, waiting rather than acting. Barrington would have made an attempt to get her out of Paris before this, and Jeanne was convinced that she would have gone without fear. If the enterprise had failed, it would have been a splendid failure. Lucien had not made the attempt. She did not blame him, his nature was to exercise greater caution, and when he did move, perhaps the chances of success would be greater; yet she knew that with Lucien she would feel greater responsibility, feel that she was obliged to protect him almost as much as he protected her. Lucien would ask her advice and be guided by it; Barrington would tell her what to do and be angry if she did not obey at once.

"It is my love which makes the difference," she told herself. "A woman must exercise protection over the man she loves. In the love of all good women there is the mother instinct. That is the reason why I feel like this toward Lucien." And then she thought of how she had pa.s.sed the barrier with Barrington and his servant Seth. It seemed a mad scheme, yet it had succeeded. And Lucien had asked her whether this man was to be trusted!

So the days pa.s.sed, much dreaming in them for want of other employment.

It was sometimes too cold and wet to walk much in the garden, and the sense of confinement within high walls was depressing. Not always could cards or music dispel the anxiety which these guests had to endure, and Jeanne, with all her bravery, had hard work to keep her tears back at times. She had been at the house in the Rue Charonne a month when Marie, a maid of all work in the establishment, came to her one morning, a frightened look in her face and evidences of tears in her eyes. Marie was generally a.s.sumed to be of rather weak intellect, chiefly perhaps because she made no complaint against the drudgery of her life, and because, unlike the other servants, she did not copy the rapacity of the master and extort fees at every opportunity. She was especially attached to Mademoiselle St. Clair, who had in times past befriended her aged mother, and she had endeavored to repay the debt by special devotion to her, and, when they chanced to be alone, by a loquacity which was intended to be encouraging. Her present doleful appearance was therefore the more surprising.

"What is the matter, Marie?" Jeanne asked.

"The doctor wants to see you in his study."

"I wasn't thinking of your message, but of your appearance. You have been crying."

"Yes, that's the reason," Marie answered. "The master wants to see you, and it's Sat.u.r.day morning."

Jeanne had forgotten the day, and the information, coupled with the message, startled her for a moment.

"There is no need to be afraid, Marie," she said quietly.

"I know you're brave, you couldn't be anything else," returned the girl, "but I know what Sat.u.r.day morning in that study means. Mademoiselle, I'll do anything I can. No one takes any notice of me. I can slip out of the house almost any time I like."

"Thank you, Marie. I will not forget."

In spite of the servant girl's pessimistic view, Jeanne had little apprehension as she went to the doctor's study, and Legrand's method of receiving her was rea.s.suring. He rose, bowed low and placed a chair for her. He spoke of the pleasant crispness in the air, of the little dance which had taken place in the salon on the previous night.

"Even the Abbe was persuaded to a few steps," he laughed. "It was very amusing."

"I am waiting to hear the business which necessitates my presence here,"

said Jeanne.

"Ah, mademoiselle, it is a painful matter; it pains me. There is no remittance from Monsieur Bruslart this week. It has always come on Friday night, but this is Sat.u.r.day morning and it is still not here."

Jeanne did not answer for a moment.

"Of course there is some mistake," she said.

"I thought so," said Legrand. "It did not trouble me much last night, but this morning--mademoiselle, I was so surprised that I called on Monsieur Bruslart this morning. He has left Paris."

"Gone!"

"Leaving no word behind him, mademoiselle."

"It is more likely that he has been arrested," said Jeanne.

"I have inquired. He has not been arrested, but he would have been had he remained."

"Are you suggesting that he has run away without a thought for me?"

"Mademoiselle, the most prominent members of my profession have little knowledge of men's thoughts. Of the working of Monsieur Bruslart's mind I know nothing; I only know that he has left Paris without sending money."

"And the consequence to me?" asked Jeanne.

"That is what pains me," Legrand answered. "This house is secure only on certain conditions, a peculiar arrangement in which I have personally little influence. Some of my guests are ungracious enough to disbelieve this. When the fees remain unpaid I have no choice in the matter. My guest is removed elsewhere."

Jeanne showed not a trace of nervousness or alarm. The whirl of thoughts and doubts in her brain caused the lines in her face to harden a little, but there was no quiver in her eyes, no tremble in her voice.

"Is the money paid in advance?" she asked.

"Always, mademoiselle; that is one of the conditions."

"Then it is for the coming week that the money is due?"

"That is so."

"I do not know, Dr. Legrand, whether you are fully aware of Monsieur Bruslart's position and my own?"

"I think so, mademoiselle. You were, I believe, to be man and wife."

His suggestion that such a thing was now impossible was not lost upon Jeanne and was a little startling. Did he believe that Lucien Bruslart was a scoundrel?

"Do you know that the fees paid to you by Lucien Bruslart are paid out of my money?"

"Officially I only know that they are paid by a certain person, and I ask no questions. Having some knowledge of Monsieur Bruslart's position, I have imagined that the necessary money was supplied by you."

"I have only to authorize the banker who has funds of mine in hand to pay the amount."

"Mademoiselle, I naturally thought of that. All that was necessary was a form for your signature, so I called upon the banker. I regret to tell you that he has no longer any funds of yours in hand. The whole amount has been withdrawn."

"By whom?"

Legrand shrugged his shoulders.