“This is not a very pleasant duty of mine, monsieur, but you’ll understand it is a duty. I am here in place of Captain Boutelle, and my instructions are not to allow any one to pass the gate who is not known. But as I know scarcely any one while he knows many, it is rather a hardship for the citizens. Your name, please?” “Pascal Tourelle.” The officer wrote it down, saying the while-- “I am sorry I do not recognize you, M. Tourelle. Your occupation?” “Merchant--chiefly in steel wares.” “You are not of Morvaix; your accent tells me that.” “I am of Paris; my master’s affairs have brought me to this district.” “Ah, Paris!” exclaimed the officer. “I envy you, monsieur. Married?” “My wife rides with me,” said Pascal. “Her name?” “Lucette.” The officer looked up with a quick smile. “Pardon the smile,” he said, “but the name is unusual and recalls associations for me.” “The devil it does! Can she have been flirting here as well!” was Pascal’s thought, but he looked stolidly at the questioner as he replied, producing Dauban’s pass-- “I can save your time, monsieur, I think. I have a pass.” “The date is yesterday’s,” and the officer shook his head. “Did you mean to start yesterday? I am afraid it is no use to me. But I need not trouble you further except in one very simple thing. There will be plenty of citizens who know you, and I will send a man with you to any one who will identify you. I don’t distrust your word, of course, but I am compelled to do this work. And the Governor of Morvaix, as you may have heard, is somewhat exacting. I am really sorry,” he said, rising. “Perhaps Madame Tourelle will await you here.” It was most courteously suggested, but none the less embarrassing on that account. “I think not, monsieur. She has some matters to see to, I believe, which our earlier departure caused her to put off until our return this evening, and will no doubt prefer to see to them now while I fetch a citizen to vouch for me. For the present, monsieur, good morning. Accept my thanks for your courteous discharge of an unpleasant duty.” But the officer was not to be shaken off. “I should have been glad to speak with her of Paris. It is some years since I was there. Ah, Paris!” and he sighed as if in pity for himself. “When I return, monsieur, it will give me pleasure to see you again. I will not trouble you to send a man with me, but will bring back some one who will satisfy you as to me.” “Nay, monsieur, it is no more than a form. I will send a man,” and while he turned away to give the necessary instructions, Pascal hurried out to Lucette. “Go back to Gerard, and tell him the way is blocked. I’ll find you at Babillon’s. Go at once, for God’s sake. The officer here pricked up his ears at your name and may know you.” Lucette drew the end of the shawl which wrapped her neck and shoulders across the lower part of her face as the officer came out and looked curiously at her. “I know him, indeed,” she said.