“Ho, Roget!” he called, “this lady comes on business with Monsieur the Intendant”; and poor frightened Annette was passed along mid the rude jests of the soldiers, till she reached an ante-room to which was attached the small office of the Intendant. At last a voice said,—
“You may enter”; and Annette, who between fright and fatigue was ready to weep, found herself standing before a man with flashing eyes and a brilliant scarlet and gold uniform, who was looking at her with unconcealed interest.
“Well, child, what would you with me?” and Annette, raising her head, bravely answered,—
“I come to ransom my father, Monsieur Valvier.”
The Intendant frowned; and surely the pale child before him, in a simple calico gown, with empty hands and eyes full of unshed tears, hardly seemed able to ransom a bird, much less a political prisoner.
The Intendant’s voice was harsh and cold as he said,—
“Ransom means gold, child,—gold, or lands.”
“Alas, Monsieur, I have neither,” said the trembling little girl, “but I thought perhaps—” And she drew from its place of concealment the splendid necklace.
The Intendant could scarcely conceal a start.
“How came you by this?” he asked, letting the rich strings glide through his fingers.