“Who could have warned them?” said Corentin, to Peyrade.  “No one but the First Consul, Fouche, the ministers, the prefect of police, and Malin knew anything about it.”

“We must set spies in the neighborhood,” whispered Peyrade.

“And watch the spies,” said the abbe, who smiled as he overheard the word and guessed all.

“Good God!” thought Corentin, replying to the abbe’s smile with one of his own; “there is but one intelligent being here,—­he’s the one to come to an understanding with; I’ll try him.”

“Gentlemen—­” said the mayor, anxious to give some proof of devotion to the First Consul and addressing the two agents.

“Say ‘citizens’; the Republic still exists,” interrupted Corentin, looking at the priest with a quizzical air.

“Citizens,” resumed the mayor, “just as I entered this salon and before I had opened my mouth Catherine rushed in and took her mistress’s hat, gloves, and whip.”

A low murmur of horror came from the breasts of all the household except Gothard.  All eyes but those of the agent and the gendarmes were turned threateningly on Goulard, the informer, seeming to dart flames at him.

“Very good, citizen mayor,” said Peyrade.  “We see it all plainly.  Some one” (this with a glance of evident distrust at Corentin) “warned the citizeness Cinq-Cygne in time.”

“Corporal, handcuff that boy,” said Corentin, to the gendarme, “and take him away by himself.  And shut up that girl, too,” pointing to Catherine.  “As for you, Peyrade, search for papers,” adding in his ear, “Ransack everything, spare nothing.—­Monsieur l’abbe,” he said, confidentially, “I have an important communication to make to you”; and he took him into the garden.

“Listen to me attentively, monsieur,” he went on; “you seem to have the mind of a bishop, and (no one can hear us) you will understand me.  I have no longer any hope except through you of saving these families, who, with the greatest folly, are letting themselves roll down a precipice where no one can save them.  The Messieurs Simeuse and d’Hauteserre have been betrayed by one of those infamous spies whom governments introduce into all conspiracies to learn their objects, means, and members.  Don’t confound me, I beg of you, with the wretch who is with me.  He belongs to the police; but I am honorably attached to the Consular cabinet, I am therefore behind the scenes.  The ruin of the Simeuse brothers is not desired.  Though Malin would like to see them shot, the First Consul, if they are here and have come without evil intentions, wishes them to be warned out of danger, for he likes good soldiers.  The agent who accompanies me has all the powers, I, apparently, am nothing.  But I see plainly what is hatching.  The agent is pledged to Malin, who has doubtless promised him his influence, an office, and perhaps money if he finds the Simeuse brothers and delivers them up.  The First Consul, who is a really great man, never