She led the way out, and Tallien and Moncrif followed.
The corridor fortunately was deserted. Only a couple of ouvreuses stood gossiping in a corner. Theresia, white to the lips—but more from anger than fear—dragged Moncrif with her to the foyer. Here there was no one.
"Now, tell me!" she commanded.
Bertrand passed his trembling hand through his soaking hair. His clothes were wet through. He was shaking from head to foot and appeared to have run till now he could scarcely stand.
"Tell me!" Theresia reiterated impatiently.
Tallien stood by, half-paralyzed with terror. He did not question the younger man, but gazed on him with compelling, horror-filled eyes, as if he would wrench the words out of him before they reached his throat.
"I was in the Rue Villedot," Moncrif stammered breathlessly at last, "when the storm broke. I sought shelter under the portico of a house opposite the citoyenne's lodgings. . . . I was there a long time. Then the storm subsided. . . . Men in uniform came along. . . . They were soldiers of the National Guard . . . I could see that, though the street was pitch dark. . . . They passed quite close to me. . . . They were talking of the citoyenne. . . . Then they crossed over to her lodgings. . . . I saw them enter the house. . . . I saw citizen Chauvelin in the doorway. . . . He chided them for being late. . . . There was a captain and there were six soldiers, and that asthmatic coalheaver was with them."
"What!" Theresia exclaimed. "Rateau?"
"What in Satan's name does it all mean?" Tallien exclaimed with a savage curse.
"They went into the house," Moncrif went on, his voice rasping through his parched throat. "I followed at a little distance, to make quite sure before I came to warn you. Fortunately I knew where you were . . . fortunately I always know . . ."