"I charge this young woman with being an aristocrat in disguise. She is the daughter of the ci-devant Marquis de St. Caux, who was executed on the 2d of September at Bicetre."
"Murdered, you mean, sir," Marie said in a clear haughty voice. "Why not call things by their proper name?"
"I am sorry," Lebat went on, not heeding the interruption, "that it should fall to my lot to denounce her, for I acknowledge that in the days before our glorious Revolution commenced I have visited at her father's chateau. But I feel that my duty to the republic stands before any private considerations."
"You have done perfectly right," the president of the committee said. "As I understand that the accused does not deny that she is the daughter of the ci-devant marquis, I will at once sign the order for her committal to La Force. There is room there still, though the prisons are filling up again fast."
"We must have another jail delivery," one of the committee laughed brutally; and a murmur of assent passed through the chamber.
The order was made out, and Marie was handed over to the armed guard, to be taken with the next batch of prisoners to La Force.
Harry was some twenty yards behind Marie and her companion when Lebat checked his horse before her. He recognized the man instantly, and saw that Marie's disguise was discovered. His first impulse was to rush forward to her assistance, but the hopelessness of any attempt at interference instantly struck him, and to the surprise of the two girls, who were looking into a shop, and had not noticed what was occurring, he turned suddenly with them down a side street.
"What are you doing, Harry? We shall lose the others in the crowd if we do not keep them in sight," Jeanne said.
"I know what I am doing, Jeanne; I will tell you presently." He walked along several streets until he came to an unfrequented thoroughfare.
"There is something wrong, Harry. I see it in your face!" Jeanne exclaimed. "Tell us at once.