The timepiece on the overmantel chimed melodiously
the hour of ten, and then, startling in the suddenness
with which it broke the immediate silence, another
sound vibrated through the house, and brought madame
to her feet, in a breathless mingling of hope and
dread. Some one was knocking sharply on the door
below. Followed moments of agonized suspense,
culminating in the abrupt invasion of the room by
the footman Jacques. He looked round, not seeing
his mistress at first.
“Madame! Madame!” he panted, out
of breath.
“What is it, Jacques!” Her voice was
steady now that the need for self-control seemed thrust
upon her. She advanced from the shadows into
that island of light about the table. “There
is a man below. He is asking... he is demanding
to see you at once.”
“A man?” she questioned.
“He... he seems to be an official; at least
he wears the sash of office. And he refuses
to give any name; he says that his name would convey
nothing to you. He insists that he must see you
in person and at once.”
“An official?” said madame.
“An official,” Jacques repeated.
“I would not have admitted him, but that he
demanded it in the name of the Nation. Madame,
it is for you to say what shall be done. Robert
is with me. If you wish it... whatever it may
be... "
“My good Jacques, no, no.” She was
perfectly composed. “If this man intended
evil, surely he would not come alone. Conduct
him to me, and then beg Mlle. de Kercadiou to
join me if she is awake.”
Jacques departed, himself partly reassured.
Madame seated herself in the armchair by the table
well within the light. She smoothed her dress
with a mechanical hand. If, as it would seem,
her hopes had been futile, so had her momentary fears.
A man on any but an errand of peace would have brought
some following with him, as she had said.
The door opened again, and Jacques reappeared; after
him, stepping briskly past him, came a slight man
in a wide-brimmed hat, adorned by a tricolour cockade.
About the waist of an olive-green riding-coat he
wore a broad tricolour sash; a sword hung at his side.
He swept off his hat, and the candlelight glinted
on the steel buckle in front of it. Madame found
herself silently regarded by a pair of large, dark
eyes set in a lean, brown face, eyes that were most
singularly intent and searching.
She leaned forward, incredulity swept across her countenance.
Then her eyes kindled, and the colour came creeping
back into her pale cheeks. She rose suddenly.
She was trembling.
“Andre-Louis!” she exclaimed.
THE BARRIER
