Jeanne looked at Barrington, who met her gaze unflinchingly.

“I have told you all I know,” he said quietly, answering the question in her eyes.

There was a silence which was broken by the heavy opening and closing of the street door.

“Doubtless that is Monsieur Bruslart,” said Lafayette.  “You would wish to be alone with him, mademoiselle, so we will leave you for a little while.  I can only hope that his advice will support mine.  You may count on me to do all I can to secure your safety.”

Barrington made no promise as he followed the Marquis from the room, but his eyes met Jeanne’s again for a moment.  A curious and sudden conviction came to her that she had at least one friend in Paris, who was able and willing to help her.  She was encouraged and strengthened.  For an instant she seemed to feel the grasp of his hand as she had done when she ran beside him last night.

Lucien Bruslart’s brain had worked busily since the message reached him.  He was glad Pauline had not been with him to hear it.  She was such a jealous little termagant.  He entered the room the moment after Lafayette and Barrington had left it by another door.

“Jeanne!”

“You sent for me, Lucien.  I have come.”

He bent his head, and taking her hand raised it to his lips.  At that moment he had no thought for Pauline.  Yet he felt there was something lacking in Jeanne’s greeting.  He would make her understand directly.

“How good of you!” he murmured.  “Tell me of your journey.  Last night, strangely enough, I heard of you, and since then have been in a fever of unrest.”

“You heard of me!  At the Lion d’Or?”

“Were you there?  No, that is not what I heard.  It was a strange place to lodge you in.  Tell me everything.”

“Tell me first why you sent for me,” she answered.  “It is not so very long since I left Paris; yet, in some way, you have grown unfamiliar.”

“It is this perhaps,” and he laughed as he touched the tri-color which he wore.  “You are unfamiliar too.  We are both masquerading.”

He told her the history of his imprisonment and of his release; he laughed as he explained that his safety lay in appearing to be a good patriot, and grew serious as he told her with lowered voice that, under this deceit, he was working night and day for the King, the imprisoned nobility, and for the emigres.

“I was in danger, Jeanne, grave danger, but I did not send for you.  Do you imagine I would have brought you into peril on any pretext?”

“You promised to send for me if you were in danger.  It was a compact.”

“One that any man would feel himself justified in breaking.  Rouzet, poor fellow, acted without my knowledge.  He was from the first very fearful for my safety, and to ease his mind I showed him the trinket and told him of our compact.  Directly I was arrested and taken to the Conciergerie he must have planned to come to Beauvais.”