It was hard to be dismissed thus at a moment of peril. But my little lady’s words and the smile that accompanied them made up for it.
“Yes. Come back early, Barry. We shall feel short of a protector while you are away.”
And she held out her hand, which I kissed with a glare at the captain, who only laughed, and said,—
“Don’t forget the provisions.”
Little I thought as I groped my way down the tumble-down staircase how many weary months were to elapse before I was to hold that gentle little hand in mine again.
I had reached the stables, and was rubbing down a spent horse, when I became aware that a woman was standing at the gate. I recognised her at once as the woman who had pointed us out that morning when we entered our house, and my heart filled with forebodings as I saw her.
It was a relief when my employer presently ordered me to take a horse round to the house of a citizen in the suburbs. The woman had gone when I started, and after half-an-hour’s trot I almost dismissed her from my mind. My orders were, after delivering the horse at its destination, to return on foot, calling on my way at the hay merchant’s with an order. This I duly performed; and was hastening back by way of the Rue Saint Honoré, when two muskets were suddenly crossed in front of me, and a harsh voice said,—
“Regnier, you are arrested by order of the Committee of Public Safety.”
“On what charge?” faltered I.
“On the accusation of the Citoyenne Souchard, who denounces you as the friend of royalism and of the miscreant Bailly.”