"So I thought," said Hanaud, "when I saw the door open downstairs, and the morphia-needle on the table."
Lemerre turned to one of the officers.
"Let them be taken with old Jeanne in cabs to the depot."
And when the man had gone upon his errand Lemerre spoke to Hanaud.
"You will stay here to-night to arrange for their transfer to Aix?"
"I will leave Durette behind," said Hanaud. "I am needed at Aix. We will make a formal application for the prisoners." He was kneeling by Celia's side and awkwardly dabbing her forehead with a wet handkerchief. He raised a warning hand. Celia Harland moved and opened her eyes. She sat up on the sofa, shivering, and looked with dazed and wondering eyes from one to another of the strangers who surrounded her. She searched in vain for a familiar face.
"You are amongst good friends, Mlle. Celie," said Hanaud with great gentleness.
"Oh, I wonder! I wonder!" she cried piteously.
"Be very sure of it," he said heartily, and she clung to the sleeve of his coat with desperate hands.
"I suppose you ARE friends," she said; "else why—?" and she moved her numbed limbs to make certain that she was free. She looked about the room. Her eyes fell upon the sack and widened with terror.