He was deep in a dozen plans which came in a chaotic confusion into his mind, when there was a knock at the door, two low, single knocks followed a double one, Legrand’s signal.  An hour had not passed.  Legrand had returned quickly.  What had happened?  He opened the door, then started back.

“Pauline!”

For a moment she stood on the threshold apparently with some feeling for the dramatic effect in her attitude, then she entered and closed the door.

“Yes, Pauline,” she said.

Bruslart had been taken unawares; he had unfortunately allowed the woman to see his surprise, and cursed his folly as he regained his equanimity with an effort.

“You are welcome, Pauline, as welcome as—­”

“As the devil,” she answered.  “No, I want to do the talking.  You sit down and listen.”

“Nothing will please me better,” Bruslart returned, smiling.  “I have been forced to go into hiding, and have lost touch with events.”

“And I have been in prison.”

“In prison!  You!”

“Strange, isn’t it?  I dare say the story will interest you, but there are other things to talk of first.  What has forced you into hiding?”

“Circumstances and Raymond Latour,” he answered.

“And why should you keep your hiding-place a secret from me?”

“I will explain.  It is rather a long story, and—­”

“And I do not want to hear it,” she said.  “I know.  It is not a pretty story.  To save one woman you sacrifice another, and in the end are false to both.”

“What nonsense have you been told, Pauline?”

“I have been told very little, perhaps only know part of the tale even now, but it is sufficient.  I only found out your hiding-place on Wednesday night.  On Thursday and Friday, Citizen Legrand was with you.  By your contriving Mademoiselle St. Clair was in hiding.  A large part of her money was in your hands, and she was in your way, so Legrand was instructed to send word to the Convention that one Richard Barrington, an American, had contrived by false representation to place her in Legrand’s house for safety, and the doctor, suddenly discovering the falsehood, was to prove himself a good patriot and give her up.  So Lucien Bruslart, by paying the doctor, was to get rid of a troublesome woman and retire to Belgium.”

“I do not know who can have told you such a story.”

“There are many spies in Paris,” she answered with a short laugh.  “But that is not all the tale.  Yesterday you were very confidential with Citizen Legrand.  You told him of another woman who was in love with you, and was troublesome, or would be if she knew where to find you.  You had promised to marry her, a promise to the pretty fool which you did not intend to keep.  It amused you to think how furious Pauline Vaison would be when she found out you had gone.”

“So that devil Legrand has been talking, has he?”

“Poor Lucien!  Do you imagine you are the only scoundrel in Paris?”