“Give me your other hand,” he whispered.

Thar, too, he guided until it grasped a rope, a second rope.  Then he took her foot and put it upon a strand of rope which gave under her weight.

“A ladder,” he whispered.  “I will hold you as far as I can, then you must go up alone.  A hand will be stretched down to help you.  My man Seth is at the window above.”

Barrington gave a low whistle, hardly more than a sign, which was answered from above.

“Now,” he said.

He helped her as far as possible, then held the rope ladder as steady as he could.  In a few seconds another low whistle came from above, and Barrington went up the ladder quickly.  He climbed in at the open window, drew up the ladder, and closed the window.

“An excellent night for our purpose, Master Richard,” Seth whispered.  “Here is a sword, it is well to masquerade and be as much like truculent ruffians as possible; and two cockades, one for mademoiselle.”

“We are expected, Seth?”

“Yes, any time before morning.  They are prepared for us.”

“Where are we going?” whispered Jeanne.

“To the lodgings of a servant of Monsieur de Lafayette,” Barrington answered.  “This is an empty house which we shall leave by a window below.  The worst is over.  We shall be secure in our retreat until we can leave Paris.  Lead the way, Seth.”

A set of rooms opened out into another, a door enclosing them from the passage without.  Seth led the way through the rooms and opened this door quietly.  Then he stopped and drew back a little.

“What is it?” said Barrington under his breath.

“Listen!”

Jeanne’s hand was still in Barrington’s, and he felt her fingers tighten.  To her the house was as still as death, the blackness of it empty; but to her companions whose ears were trained to keenness, there was movement in the air close to them.

“How many,” Barrington whispered, not asking information, but rather confirmation of his own estimate.

“Several,” Seth answered.

“Tramps, perhaps, lodging here for the night.”

“I fear not.  They are on the stairs.  We shall soon see,” answered Seth.

“Lock the door; we must wait,” said Barrington.

It was done in a moment, and immediately there were stealthy, shuffling feet in the passage without.

“Curse them,” muttered Seth.  “I have been followed.  For all my care I have brought you into ruin.  What can we do?”

“Wait.”

“Master Richard, is there no other way of escape from that roof below?”

“None.”

Jeanne’s hand was still in his, still holding him tightly.  He could not feel that she trembled, yet he could not trust himself to speak to her.  He had failed to rescue her.  There were many in the passage without, he was sure of that.  He could fight for her, die for her, but he could not save her.  He dared not speak to her lest he should cry out in the anguish of his soul.