“Monsieur will have been told by Citizen Latour that he is to do as I direct.”

“I am so tired of these walls that a journey to the Place de la Revolution would be almost welcome.”

Mercier carried a lantern, and, after locking the door of the cell, he led Barrington by the same way that he and Seth had taken.  They passed through the trapdoor into the cellar, and from there into the passage of the house.

“This way,” said Mercier, opening a door which gave on to a dark alleyway covered in but apparently joining one house to another.  Barrington did not stop to ask himself questions, to consider whether it was wise to trust this man.  At the end of this alley Mercier opened another door, and they entered a room barely furnished, and dimly lighted.  Two men rose quickly from seats beside a stove, and one came forward with a glad cry.

“Master Richard!  Master Richard!  I thought they’d been lying to me.  I thought you were dead.  Thank God for the sight of your face again.”

Their hands clasped and were held tightly, as men who are comrades yet do not speak of it much.

“I’ve been lying in some cellar underneath here with the wits out of me,” said Seth.  “Now we’re to take a journey, though I cannot worm out of these gentlemen where to.  It doesn’t matter much so long as we are together.”

“A journey?” said Barrington, turning to Mercier.

“That is so, monsieur.”

“It’s strange that we four should be together again,” said Seth.  “They were the Count and his friend when we drank a bottle of wine at Beauvais.”

“Now Citizens Mercier and Dubois,” said Mercier, putting down the lantern.  “And a bottle of wine will not harm us.  It will keep the cold night out.  There’s a bottle in the cupboard, Dubois.”

Dubois got it out and drew the cork with evident relish.

“Remember the last, Master Richard,” Seth whispered.

Mercier could not have heard what he said, but he evidently remembered the last occasion.

“There is nothing in this to make one sleep heavily.  Here’s the proof,” and he filled a glass and drained it.  “I’ve tasted better wine, but at any rate it’s harmless.  Now for the other things, Dubois.”

Dubois brought from the cupboard coats, hats, tri-color cockades and sashes, sabres and wigs, which he placed upon the table.

“You will remember what Citizen Latour said, monsieur,” said Mercier, turning to Barrington.  “You were to do as I directed.  One false step and your lives are forfeit, and mine, and Citizen Latour’s too.”

“We go to—­”

“On a journey, monsieur, a dangerous one, but with a good end to it, I hope.  Let me help you to dress in this coat and wig.”

“I care not how I go, so that the journey leads me to—­to my desire,” said Barrington.

“That’s the road we all try to travel,” Dubois returned, as he helped Seth fit his wig and tied the sash round him.