"Accuse me, accuse me,—and of what?"
Madelon's eyes flashed.
"You have a short memory," she said; "others will not believe it is so short. When I say, as I shall say, that it was you that arranged Mlle Marguerite's flight there will be plenty of people who will believe me." She paused, panting a little, and Mathieu, white with passion, stared helplessly at her.
Jean Jacques, in the background, looked from one to the other, amazed to the point of wondering whether he were asleep or awake. Was this Madelon, who had been afraid of raising her voice in her father's presence? And what was all this about Leroux and the escape? It was beyond him, but he opened ears and eyes to their widest.
"There is no proof!" shouted Mathieu.
"Ah, but yes," said Madelon at once; "you forget that Mlle Marguerite gave you her diamond shoe-buckles as a reward for helping her and M. le Chevalier to get away."
"Shoe-buckles!" exclaimed Mathieu Leroux, his eyes almost starting from his head.
"Yes, indeed, shoe-buckles with diamonds in them, fit for a princess; and they are hidden in your garden, my father, and when I tell the Commissioner that, and show him where they are buried, do you think that your patriotism will save you?"
"It is not true," gasped Mathieu, putting one hand to his head, where the hair clung suddenly damp.
"Citizen Brutus Carré will believe it," returned Madelon steadily.