Monsieur Lafargue said:
"If our presence in the city was a peril to these men, why was not this fear used to drive us away?"
"Was it not used to drive mademoiselle away?" asked Anthony. "Did I not find her on board Le Mousquet, flying from the phantom they raised in her mind?"
Again the shaking hand went to the lips of Monsieur Lafargue. And he said:
"But they did not desire me to be gone. And I wanted to. I longed to go back to France. But they begged me to remain."
"And why?" said Anthony. "I think, from what I've seen to-night in monsieur's manner, he has had some thoughts as to that."
Here the girl's arms went about her father as though to protect him.
"They had use for you, I think," said Anthony. "They had plans, had they not? And these plans mademoiselle did not altogether favor. Am I right? They wanted her influence away. They desired you to be alone and unadvised." Monsieur Lafargue got up. His face was gray and drawn; his legs shook under him.
"At my years," said he, "the mind does not think directly. I may have been wrong in acting against your wish," to the girl; "but it was for France; it was for the republic, one and indivisible. Do not our enemies crowd the sea? Only a word was asked of me. It was a word that would launch a blow against the enemy. Could I withhold it?"
"Please, please!" said the girl, and the gentleness in her voice made Anthony marvel. "There is no one to blame you." Her arms were tightly about him. "No one can blame you!"