"For an agent of Police," was the reply, the poniard still held in unpleasant closeness to his breast.
St. Just laughed scornfully.
"My good sirs," he said, "so far am I from that, that did they but know I am in Paris, they would arrest me. I am unarmed; search me."
Once more he was beginning to regain their confidence; what he said seemed reasonable enough.
"Will you allow us first to bind your hands?" asked the man with the coal-stained face, who seemed to take the lead throughout.
"By all means," was St. Just's answer, and he held out his hands and brought his wrists together.
One of the men took out a handkerchief and with this he tied his hands together; then searched him carefully, the other, meanwhile, still keening the dagger in position.
Finding him unarmed, as he had stated, and that he had nothing about him to connect him with the Police, the men once more became composed, and he who held the weapon lowered it. St. Just was the first to speak.
"Now, gentlemen, I trust that you are satisfied that I had no designs against you. I know nothing whatever of your business, nor do I seek to know it. But I will be frank with you; I am sure you are not what you seem; your speech and manner belie your dress. Further, I believe the man I ran against outside was watching you. You know best whether he had any object and whether you run any risk.
"And now you will confer a favor on me, by giving me the address of Madame de Moncourt."