“You know the room where this aristocrat was placed to-day?”

“Yes, citizen.”

“She is not likely to be moved from there?”

“No, citizen, not until—­not until she is condemned.”

“When will you be in charge of the keys of her prison?”

“Not for a week, citizen.”

“A week!”

“My turn for that part of the prison comes in a week, and she may not be there then.  If you would speak with her, I might manage it before then.”

“I do not want speech with her,” Latour returned.

Mathon looked at him sharply.

“More than speech,” said Latour.  “In a week I will see you again.  You shall run small risk, I will see to that.”

Mathon nodded, he could not refuse his help, though his throat grew dry, and the collar of his shirt seemed to tighten as he thought of what the consequences might be.  He hastened back to the wine shop and Latour returned to the Rue Valette slowly, thinking of a week hence.

He hardly noticed those who passed him on the way, and was certainly quite unconscious of the figure which followed him like a shadow.

CHAPTER XIV

AN APPEAL TO FRIENDSHIP

Raymond Latour was a busy man, he seldom missed attending the meetings of the Convention, and was assiduous in his work upon the various committees of public instruction, domains, liquidation and finance.  It was therefore past noon on the following day when Sabatier found him and related what had occurred at the wine shop on the previous evening.

“Citizen Bruslart is no coward,” concluded Sabatier, as though he considered even grudging praise from a man like himself conferred distinction upon the recipient.  “When he entered, every patriot there was ready to fly at his throat, yet before the evening was ended he was a hero.”

“He must still be watched,” said Latour.  “I have always told you that he was clever.”

“He would be safer arrested, citizen.  Indeed, is it not almost certain that he will be since this aristocrat was found in his apartment?”

“He has wasted no time,” Latour answered.  “Quite early this morning he saw certain members of the Convention and explained matters.  It was the same story as he told in the wine shop, and he was believed.”

“Do you believe him?” Sabatier asked.

The smile upon Latour’s face suggested that he had no great faith in any one, that it was a sign of weakness to trust any man fully, and folly to express an opinion on such a subject.

“For all his professions of innocence a word would suffice to have him arrested,” said Sabatier.

“It is the very last word I want spoken,” Latour answered.  “As you know, I have a personal interest in this affair.  Citizen Bruslart is one of the cards in the game I play.  Such a card in the hand is not to be carelessly thrown away, for there will surely come a time when it will be played with effect.  Until then, Sabatier, make it your business to believe in Citizen Bruslart’s patriotism, discourage as much as you can any questioning of it among those with whom you come in contact.  Twice already to-day I have been loud in his praises.  For the present he is safe, and we can watch him easily.”