"You knew——?" she murmured.
"I knew his voice."
"But you know him?" the other insisted.
"I know him—yes," Marguerite replied. "I am a compatriot of yours. Before I married, I was Marguerite St. Just."
"St. Just?"
"We are cousins, my brother and I, of the young deputy, the friend of Robespierre."
"God help you!" the woman murmured.
"He has done so already, by bringing us both to England. My brother is married, and I am Lady Blakeney now. You too will feel happy and safe now that you are here."
"Happy?" the woman ejaculated, with a piteous sob. "And safe? Mon Dieu, if only I could think it!"
"But what have you to fear? Chauvelin may have retained some semblance of power over in France. He has none over here."