"One moment and I will get a light."
The dim light from the lantern revealed a small chamber, square and built of stone, the work of a past age. A barred grating high up in the wall let in air, and possibly light in the daytime. A common chair and table standing in the center, a bowl with a water can beside it in one corner, and a heap of straw in another comprised the furniture. These things Barrington noticed at once, and then recognized that the man who set the lantern on the table was Jacques Sabatier.
"A prison," said Barrington.
"A place of refuge, citizen," was the answer. "Were you not here, you would be decorating a lantern by this time."
"We meet in Paris under strange circumstances," said Barrington.
"Still we do meet. Did I not say at Trémont that every true patriot must sooner or later meet Jacques Sabatier in Paris, though for that matter I expected it to be in a wine shop and not here, underground."
"Where are we?"
"In a cell of the old monastery which once stood hard by the Rue Charonne, which has served as a cellar at some time, but now for a long while has been forgotten. Citizen Latour would have been here with mademoiselle to meet you, but the mob in the neighborhood will keep them away to-night. You must wait here, monsieur, it may be for some days."
"Mademoiselle is safe?"
"Quite safe in the care of Deputy Latour. I had the honor of helping him to bring her out of the Abbaye prison."