How many guns had I seen? The little man shot out the question at me. "Only those on the roof," I answered readily, "those which had been used in January. They were hooded and protected from rain by waterproof jackets." "How did you know that?" "Because I went up there to take the air after dinner, and I leaned my back against one while I smoked." "Was it a big gun? Three--four-pounder?" I could not say exactly, but I should think four. I knew nothing about any defensive works within the square of the factory. I had traversed all that part blindfold. The fierce little man grunted disbelievingly, but desisted when it was obvious that he could make nothing more of me. "Let Dennis Deventer take care," he snarled, "he speaks smooth words now. Oh, the great things he will do for the workmen, but not for all his promises does he stop that Jacques Jaikes from fortifying and placing guns. Oh, I know more than you or Keller Bey are aware of. I do not go about with my eyes blindfolded. What is the use of a tower of Saint Crispin if a shoemaker may not climb it and spy out the works of his enemy?" "That will do, Raoux," said Keller Bey, somewhat impatiently. "I shall send for you again when I need you." He went out slowly, with a lingering, backward look, full of spite and malice, his words and face distilling hatred like the poison-fangs of a viper. I heard him mutter as he passed: "You will send for me when you want me--take care I do not come when you want me least!" It was indeed time to get away--the Commune of Aramon stood on the verge of a volcano which might blow us into the air any day. Yet, how could I leave Keller Bey to his fate, and, if I did, how could I face Linn and Alida? * * * * * The days passed heavily in Aramon, yet with a kind of feverish excitement too--an undercurrent of danger which thrills a swimmer cutting his way through smooth upper waters when he feels the swirl of the undertow. The Commune of Aramon met daily for discussion, and reports of its meetings are still to be found in the little red-covered, tri-weekly sheet, _Le Flambeau du Midi_, of which I possess a set. They appear to have discussed the most anodyne matters. They gabbled of drainage and water supplies, the suspension of rents and pawnbrokers' pledges for six months. They came to sharp words, almost to blows--"Moderates" and "Mountain," as in the old days of 1793--while outside the companies of the Avengers of Marat, the dark young men of the wolf-like prowl, kept their watch and took their sullen counsel. Provisions showed no visible stoppage. The country about Aramon was an early one--the great market for _primeurs_ being Chateau Renard, only ten miles away. Thither Pere Felix, learned in the arts of restaurant supply, sent a little permanent guard to direct the provisioning of Aramon city.