Pistol in hand, Barrington stepped quickly into the kitchen.  It was empty.  There was a door between the windows, and the next moment they were in the garden.  He took the woman’s hand, guiding her to the broken place in the wooden fence.  There he paused, looking back and listening.  There was no sound of an alarm yet, no cries to suggest that the fiends had rushed up the stairs to wreak their savagery on a defenseless woman.  For a moment Barrington contemplated taking a horse from the stable, but he dared not run the risk of the delay.  Chance must bring them the means of entering Paris in safety.

“We must run, mademoiselle.  My servant is waiting for me.”

She gathered her skirts about her.

“Give me your hand again—­it will help you.”

So they ran across the fields, making for the road and the clump of trees in the lane where Seth waited.

CHAPTER X

THE SAFETY OF MADEMOISELLE

The two men had sat for a long while facing each other, one doing all the talking, the other listening eagerly.

“Early this morning we turned the horses loose in a field and reached the barrier on foot,” said Barrington.  “We came in with the crowd, two abusive men quarreling with a market woman over some petty transaction regarding vegetables.  I assure you, Monsieur de Lafayette, I never used such coarse language to a woman before in all my life.  She played her part excellently.  They laughed at us at the barrier, and we entered still quarreling.  The rest was easy.”

So he finished his long story, which had begun with his personal affairs in Virginia, and ended with the account of mademoiselle’s flight from the Lion d’Or on the Soisy road.

Lafayette had listened without interrupting the narrative, now he rose slowly, and, crossing the room, looked down into the street.

“Is it possible that, in spite of your protestations, you are not pleased to see me?” Barrington asked, after a pause.

“Yes and no, an enigmatical answer, but the only true one I can give,” said Lafayette, turning to his companion and putting both hands upon his shoulders.  “The face is still the face of the boy I knew, and of whom I have thought often; there is exactly that courage and daring in you which I then perceived would one day assert themselves.  Richard Barrington has grown into just the kind of man I expected, and on that account I am delighted to see him.  But there is no place for him in France, there is no work for an honorable volunteer; besides which, he has already managed to slip into a very maelstrom of danger, and for that reason I am sorry he has come.”

“I find the Marquis de Lafayette much altered when I hear him speak in such a tone of despair.”

Lafayette smiled, and gently pushed Richard into a chair.

“That I do not despair easily, as a rule, may convince you that I am not troubled without reason.  The country is in the hands of fanatics, there is no foreseeing what the end may be.  On every side of us are enemies, but we are our own worse foes.  We are split into factions, fighting and disputing with one another; the very worst of us are gaining the predominant power, and those who have honestly striven to bring good out of evil have been driven to the wall and are struggling for their lives.”