“I heard none, but they talk of—­”

“Bruslart!” ejaculated Barrington.

“No, of a scurvy devil of a royalist who helped mademoiselle into Paris.”

“Of me?  By name?”

“I did not hear your name spoken, but it is you they mean.  They are looking in every direction for mademoiselle, but they are keeping their eyes open for you, too.  There’ll be some who will remember seeing you at the barrier the other day.  Yours is a figure not easily to be forgotten.  Keep within doors, Master Richard, until it is safe for us to sneak away.”

“You know that is impossible.”

“Mademoiselle has escaped,” said Seth.  “It is now your turn to seek safety.”

“With her escape my part commences,” said Barrington, with a laugh that had happiness in it.  “It is for me to take her back to Beauvais or elsewhere to safety.”

“It is madness to think of it,” said Seth.  “To be in your company would increase her danger.  Think of her, Master Richard, think of her.  Your lust for romantic adventure makes you selfish.  For days to come you are a marked man.  In the streets, at any moment, you may be recognized.  Even in this quiet corner of the city you are hardly safe.  They’ll trap you if they can and only a miracle can prevent them.”

“I have given a promise, Seth.”

“Break it, if not for your own sake, for the woman’s.  You risk bringing her to ruin.  I came back here to-day more cautiously than I have ever done.  One moment of carelessness and you are lost.  If this man Latour must be seen, let me go to him.  No one is likely to recognize me.  No one turns to look after me as I pass.  I am insignificant, of no account.  Let me go.”

“Seth, you have not told me everything,” he said, suddenly.  “There is something you are keeping back.  What is it?”

Seth was by the window looking down into the quiet street as though he expected to see danger enter it at any moment.

“What is it?” Barrington repeated.

“I’d give half my remaining years if my conscience would bid me lie to you,” Seth answered, fiercely.  “I’ve prayed, yes, I prayed as I hurried through the streets that your mother’s spirit might be allowed to whisper to me and bid me deceive you.”

“Come, Seth, tell me everything,” and Barrington let his hand fall affectionately on the man’s shoulder.  “Could conscience persuade you to barter half your years, it would be but a device of the devil to lead us into greater difficulty.”

“I was recognized to-day.  That swaggerer Sabatier touched me in the street, and with a word of caution bid me walk beside him as though we were boon companions.  He was a messenger from Raymond Latour.”

“Yes, what did he say?”

“He told me that mademoiselle had escaped, news I had heard already, and he bid me tell you from Latour to go to-night, as soon as it began to grow dusk, to the Rue Charonne, to a tavern there called the Chat Rouge.  You are to ask for the tavern keeper and say to him ‘La vie est ici.’  He will understand and bring you to Latour and mademoiselle.  Plans are laid for your escape.”