The sergeant stood at attention and quickly lifted his hand to his forehead in salute.  A fresh squad of some half-dozen men of the Republican Guard stood in the doorway; they were under the command of an officer of high rank, a rough, uncouth, almost bestial-looking creature, with lank hair worn the fashionable length under his greasy chapeau-bras, and unkempt beard round an ill-washed and bloated face.  But he wore the tricolour sash and badge which proclaimed him one of the military members of the Sectional Committee of Public Safety, and the sergeant, who had been so overbearing with the women just now, had assumed a very humble and even obsequious manner.

“You sent for a general order to the sectional Committee,” said the new-comer, turning abruptly to the sergeant after he had cast a quick, searching glance round the room, hardly condescending to look on petite maman and Rosette, whose very souls were now gazing out of their anguish-filled eyes.

“I did, citizen commandant,” replied the sergeant.

“I am not a commandant,” said the other curtly.  “My name is Rouget, member of the Convention and of the Committee of Public Safety.  The sectional Committee to whom you sent for a general order of search thought that you had blundered somehow, so they sent me to put things right.”

“I am not aware that I committed any blunder, citizen,” stammered the sergeant dolefully.  “I could not take the responsibility of making a domiciliary search all through the house.  So I begged for fuller orders.”

“And wasted the Committee’s time and mine by such nonsense,” retorted Rouget harshly.  “Every citizen of the Republic worthy of the name should know how to act on his own initiative when the safety of the nation demands it.”

“I did not know—­I did not dare—­” murmured the sergeant, obviously cowed by this reproof, which had been delivered in the rough, overbearing tones peculiar to these men who, one and all, had risen from the gutter to places of importance and responsibility in the newly-modelled State.

“Silence!” commanded the other peremptorily.  “Don’t waste any more of my time with your lame excuses.  You have failed in zeal and initiative.  That’s enough.  What else have you done?  Have you got the man Lenegre?”

“No, citizen.  He is not in hiding here, and his wife and daughter will not give us any information about him.”

“That is their look-out,” retorted Rouget with a harsh laugh.  “If they give up Lenegre of their own free will the law will deal leniently with them, and even perhaps with him.  But if we have to search the house for him, then it means the guillotine for the lot of them.”

He had spoken these callous words without even looking on the two unfortunate women; nor did he ask them any further questions just then, but continued speaking to the sergeant: 

“And what about the Englishman?  The sectional Committee sent down some spies this morning to be on the look-out for him on or about this house.  Have you got him?”