"No, a message. It was not safe to write."
"To whom was the message?"
"To a woman, my mistress, from her lover. He is in the hands of the rabble, and only she can save him. For the love of Heaven, monsieur, take the message to her. I cannot go."
"What is her name?" Barrington asked.
"Mademoiselle St. Clair."
"Certainly, she shall have it. How shall I make her understand?"
"Say Lucien prays her to come to Paris. In my coat yonder, in the lining of the collar, is a little gold star, her gift to him. Say Rouzet gave it to you because he could travel no farther. She will understand. You must go warily, and by an indirect road, or they will follow you as they did me."
"And where shall I find Mademoiselle St. Clair?"
"At the Château of Beauvais, hard by Lausanne, across the frontier."
"Lausanne! Switzerland!"