The girl turned piteously from Bertrand to Mr. Morris and back again, as if seeking some escape from the trap in which she was caught.  Her pale lips trembled.

“Is it impossible?” again asks Bertrand, noting her pallor and cruel indecision.

“No, no,” she cries, suddenly, shuddering and putting out her hand.

“Then all will be in readiness at six, Monsieur,” says Bertrand, addressing himself to Mr. Morris.

“A word aside with you,” he says to Bertrand, and, leading Adrienne to a seat, he went back to Bertrand, who waited for him beside the door.

“What is the meaning of this extraordinary scene?” he asked, sternly.

The man shrugged his shoulders.  “Just what I have said.  You know yourself, Monsieur, whether or not I am devoted to Monsieur Calvert.  For Madame de St. Andre I care less than nothing,” he said, snapping his fingers carelessly.  “But Monsieur Calvert loves her—­it seems a pretty enough way of making them happy, though ’tis a strange metier for me—­arranging love-matches among the nobility!  However, stranger things than that are happening in France.  Besides, it is necessary,” he said, his light manner suddenly changing to one more serious.  “I swear it is the only way of getting d’Azay out of Paris.  I doubt if even Danton, urged on by me, could obtain a passport for him to quit the city.  But I can answer for one for the brother of Madame Calvert, wife of the former secretary of Monsieur Jefferson, friend of the present Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States of America to France.”

Mr. Morris looked at the man keenly.

“And suppose this thing were done—­I can rely upon you?”

“Absolutely.  Attend a moment,” he said, and, going back to where Danton still sat at his desk, he spoke with him in low and earnest tones.  From where Mr. Morris stood he could see Danton’s expression change from sternness and anger to astonishment and interest.  In a few moments, with a low exclamation, he got up and, followed by Bertrand, came toward Mr. Morris.

“Bertrand has just told me facts which alter this case—­which impel me to aid Monsieur d’Azay if possible,” he said; and then, turning to Adrienne, who, pale with anxiety and terror, had risen from her seat and drawn near, he went on:  “I will use all my power to be of service to the wife of the man who once showed a courtesy to mine.”  At his words the girl drew back and blushed deeply over her whole fair face.  “I swore that I would reward him if possible, and I do so to-day.  I also swore to reward his companion, Monsieur de Beaufort—­the time is not yet come for that, but it will,” and he smiled in so terrible a fashion that Adrienne could have cried out in fear.  The fierce malignity of his look so filled Mr. Morris with disgust that he could scarce bear to speak to him.

“We will return at six,” he said, at length, and leading Adrienne to the door that the painful interview might end.