“I do not forget, but the will to do much does not mean the will to die for her.”

“No?  I think it did,” Barrington returned.  “I judged by the man’s face, not his words.”

Latour smiled, as he closed the books upon the table and put them together.

“You may be right,” he said; “the temptation has not yet come to me.  The other idea that is in your mind is wrong.  Mademoiselle St. Clair is not the woman I am interested in.”

“Then we start on level ground,” said Barrington, “the ground which was of your own suggesting—­friendship.  I do not believe my face is a telltale one, but would you feel confident that I would do you a service if I could?”

“Yes.”

“Then, Monsieur Latour, what are you going to do to help me to save Mademoiselle St. Clair?”

“The question is not unexpected,” said Latour, after a pause.  “I might easily answer it with the bare statement that I could do nothing.  It would be true enough, for, in one sense, I am powerless; my conscience would be clear because I should be acting up to my principles.  But let us consider the question for a moment.  You are acting for Citizen Lucien Bruslart.”

“He does not know that I am here.”

“I quite appreciate that you are not a man to trust any one implicitly on so short an acquaintance, but you know perfectly well that to rescue Mademoiselle St. Clair is to save her for Lucien Bruslart.”

“And if it be so?”

“The enterprise does not much appeal to me,” said Latour.  “Let me be more explicit than I was yesterday.  I know Bruslart, not the man only but the very soul of the man.  It is black, monsieur, black as hell.  Mademoiselle had far better look through the little window than trust such a man.  The guillotine does its work quickly, but the misery of a woman who trusts Lucien Bruslart must be the affair of a lifetime.”

“If she is saved, is it so certain that it will be for Citizen Bruslart?” Barrington asked.

CHAPTER XV

THE PRISONER OF THE ABBAYE

The week of waiting passed slowly for Raymond Latour.  He knew the risk he was running, but never for an instant was he tempted to turn from his purpose.  His whole being was centered upon the enterprise; the saving of this woman was an essential thing, and every other consideration of country or self must give way to it.  He was quite willing to sacrifice himself if necessary, but at the same time he intended to guard against such a necessity as much as possible.  He worked with cunning and calculation, going over every point in his scheme and eliminating as far as possible every element of chance.  The unlikely things which might happen were considered, and provided for.  Only two persons had any part in the scheme, Jacques Sabatier and Mathon, the jailer; each had his own particular work in it, had received definite and minute instructions, yet neither of them knew the whole plot.  Latour did not take them entirely into his confidence; he did not ask their advice, he only told them how to act.