“If I thought that,” said Jean, “I—­”

“Besides,” interrupted Chester, “we shall only be aiding the Germans, and not ourselves, and how long do you suppose the Apaches will be allowed to live should the Germans invade Paris?”

“Why—­” began Jean, but Chester interrupted again.

“One of their first steps would be to annihilate us,” said Chester.  “They would ravage the city, tear it into little pieces.  Remember, it is our own home, yours and mine.  Would you like to see that?”

“No,” replied Jean, “but—­”

“No matter how you look at it,” continued Chester, “you and I are sure to get the worst of it.  Now, I don’t know about you; but I am going to have nothing to do with the plot.”

Jean did not reply for some moments, and they walked along in silence for several blocks.  Finally the little man replied: 

“But I have been ordered to shoot you if you fail to carry out your end of the work.”

“In which event,” replied Chester calmly, “you would also have to assassinate the President, and would yourself be killed.”

“Then what am I to do?” cried Jean, now greatly alarmed.

“Follow my example, and have no hand in the matter,” said Chester.

“It might be done,” said Jean slowly, “for Duval himself will be present to-morrow, and, when he sees we have failed, he will do the deed himself.”

“Then we must prevent that also.”

“What!  Why?”

“Because, should the President fall before any hand—­yours, mine, Duval’s or another’s—­we should still meet the same fate; for the city would be dragged by the troops and police and not an Apache left alive.  No, the President must be warned.”

“But that is treachery!” cried the little man.

“Is it treachery to save the President of your country from the hands of an assassin?” demanded Chester, and answered his own question:  “No!”

The two paused on a street corner, and there, for perhaps ten minutes, Jean stood wrapped in thought.  Finally he spoke, and there was a different tone in his voice.

“I believe,” he said quietly, “that we have both learned a lesson.  There must be in us, after all, a spark of loyalty.  No!  We cannot assassinate the President, nor can we stand idly by while he is shot down.  He must be warned.”

Chester grasped the little Apache by the hand.

“I knew I could make you see it that way!” he exclaimed.  “Good!  Now, come with me, and we shall give the warning at once.”

“Where to?” demanded Jean.

Chester looked at him carefully a single moment, and a doubt of the man’s sincerity came to him.  Therefore he replied cautiously: 

“Never mind.  Just follow me; and if you mean what you say, warning shall be given at once.”

For a moment Jean hesitated, then followed Chester down the street.

Chester’s sense of direction now stood him in good stead.  Not once in all his wandering about had he lost a general idea of where lay the Hotel de Ville, and he now steered a course in that direction.  He finally came into view of the building, and here Jean hung back.