The voice I loved was speaking in its quaint, somewhat drawly cadence:
"You are quite safe now, my dear Monsieur Lemercier," it said; "after Madame and the young people have had a rest, some of my friends will find you suitable disguises, and they will escort you out of Paris, as they have some really genuine passports in their possessions, which we obtain from time to time through the agency of a personage highly placed in this murdering government, and with the help of English banknotes. Those passports are not always unchallenged, I must confess," added my hero with a quaint laugh; "but to-night everyone is busy murdering in one part of Paris, so the other parts are comparatively safe."
Then he turned to one of his friends and spoke to him in English:
"You had better see this through, Tony," he said, "with Hastings and Mackenzie. Three of you will be enough; I shall have need of the others."
No one seemed to question his orders. He had spoken, and the others made ready to obey. Just then papa spoke up:
"How are we going to thank you, sir?" he asked, speaking broken English, but with his habitual dignity of manner.
"By leaving your welfare in our hands, Monsieur," replied our gallant rescuer quietly.
Papa tried to speak again, but the Englishman put up his hand to stop any further talk.
"There is no time now, Monsieur," he said with gentle courtesy. "I must leave you, as I have much work yet to do."
"Where are you going, Blakeney?" asked one of the others.