"A man of the mounted police demands to speak with you."
Hearing the nature of the visitor, Monsieur Desmarais flew into a new fit of fear. His mind gave way. He ran to a window and sought to hide by wrapping himself up in the curtains. Charlotte left the room, closing the door behind her. In a second she was back, joyfully waving a paper she held in her hand. "It is good news, mother. Where's father?"
Madam Desmarais indicated with a gesture the window, the curtains of which revealed the figure of the attorney, and left his feet exposed at the bottom. Then she added, in a low voice: "If we do not hide your father somehow, he will die of agony and fright."
"His fright is baseless, but I think you are right about it," responded Charlotte in the same tone. "We can take him up to the garret, to the locked room; there he will no doubt feel that he is safe, and his fears will calm down." And she went to the window where her father, white as a sheet and bathed in a cold sweat, was clinging for support to the window casing.
"That gendarme!" stammered the lawyer. "What did he want?"
"He just brought me a letter from John. I shall read it to you and mother, after which you will be taken, as you wish, to a retreat, in the top of the house, where you need not fear being seen by a soul. Here is what John wrote me:
"Dearly beloved wife:—All goes well here so far. The General Council of the Commune is almost complete. We are advising on energetic and prompt measures—prompt above all; the Convention, on its side, is not idle. We are in session. The majority of the Sections are with us. We shall receive word in an instant that the suburbs of St. Antoine and Marceau are ready to march; we await their delegates. The City Hall Place is covered with an armed force, furnished with several pieces of artillery, and all crying 'Long live the Republic! Down with the brigands of the Convention!' Robespierre and his friends are still in prison; we shall deliver them. Be of good cheer, and remember that you live not alone for
"Your
"J. L.
"Tell Castillon to join me as soon as possible. He is a sure man, and I shall need him."
"If the suburbs march with the Commune, the Convention is lost!" murmured the lawyer. "Conduct me to the hiding place you spoke of. You shall lock me in, you will keep the key about you, you will not give the key to anyone, not even to your husband—you promise me?"