And when he returned, some five hours later, the hopeful visions which he had insisted upon seeing were transmuted into menacing phantoms of gloom. He was no wiser than when he had started out, and he was a great deal more depressed. With much difficulty he had succeeded in seeing Bertrand-Moleville. The Royalist ex-minister knew nothing, could do nothing. If there had been other arrests—and there must have been—they had been kept very quiet. Perhaps the Girondins had found the fish in their net less numerous than they had hoped. But the Comte de Périgny had vanished, as Gilbert discovered when he at last procured his address. In despair, Gilbert went to the Duc de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, whom he knew, and, in some sort, had followed. The Liberal leader and philanthropist, standing between the two parties, might, he thought, be induced to mediate, but Gilbert soon found that on that score he had nothing to hope from him. The Duc was kind and sympathetic, but, like most moderates, he knew himself more intolerable to the extremists than a Royalist, perhaps, would have been. He could only advise Château-Foix to go straight to one of the Girondin chiefs, suggesting for the purpose Roland, as an ex-minister and humane, or Condorcet, as an ex-aristocrat. But he did not disguise his belief that any application to the dominant party would be unsuccessful. “We must face the truth,” he said gravely. “This is what they must have worked for, and can you expect them now to forego the fruits of victory?” “You think, then, that I am to abandon hope?” Gilbert had asked rather bitterly, but the good Duke replied that what he meant was that no direct exertion of influence was likely to be of use. He promised the matter his earnest consideration, and undertook to communicate with the Marquis early next morning if he had any news. Profoundly dispirited and weary, Gilbert threw himself down in his own room. But he was too anxious to rest, and, moreover, it was already after the hour he had named for seeing Lucienne. Yesterday he would perhaps have been there before the time, but to-day another face had power to banish hers. Great God! suppose that Fate _had_ sometimes the will to cheat the fortunate! CHAPTER XI “YOU ARE HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME!”