"What has happened?" Barrington asked.
"The usual thing when an honest man trusts a liar; the honest man has been deceived."
"You speak of—"
"Of one Richard Barrington, a liar I was fool enough to trust. Oh, this is no time for fighting," Latour went on quickly, as sudden anger stiffened Barrington's figure, and gave a dangerous fire to his eyes. "You will be wise to hear me out. This was a place of safety, it is a prison, and a word from me will send you to the guillotine as surely as we are standing face to face at this moment."
"First prove me a liar; afterward threaten me if you will," Barrington returned.
Latour regarded him in silence for a few moments and then said slowly:
"Tell me, where is Jeanne St. Clair?"
"Jeanne! She has gone?" cried Barrington. "Sabatier said she was with you, that she—"
"It is well done, monsieur; I am no longer a fool or I might be convinced, might still be deceived."
"For Heaven's sake, man, tell me what you mean," and Barrington spoke hoarsely.