"You may trust me," Barrington answered.
"Then we may go at once. Good night, Citizen Dubois."
"Good night."
Through a doorway they passed into a yard shut in by the backs of houses, from which, high up, dim lights glimmered. Mercier led the way, bidding them keep close to him, and presently turned into a shed—a stable. Three horses were there ready saddled.
"Mount, Pinot, mount, Roche. We ride toward the barrier and journey to Versailles. We have urgent business that way."
Barrington asked no question as he mounted. Mercier led the way out of this yard, into a narrow, cobbled street, then into a wider street. There were not many people abroad in this direction, and no one took particular notice of them. They crossed the Seine, and it was evident that Mercier chose his way carefully, avoiding certain streets for good reasons, probably. They rode in silence. Even when they approached the barrier Mercier gave no word of warning.
They were challenged and stopped, all three reining in their horses on the instant.
"Business of the Convention at Versailles," said Mercier.
"More heads, citizen?"
"I judge so."