"What say you, citizens?" said Tinville at last quietly. "That man Lenoir, meseems, is too eloquent--eh?" "Dangerous," pronounced Merlin, whilst the others nodded approval. "But his scheme is good," suggested one of the men. "And we'll avail ourselves of it," assented Tinville, "but afterwards ..." He paused, and once more everyone nodded approval. "Yes; he is dangerous. We'll leave him in peace to-morrow, but afterwards ..." With a gentle hand Tinville caressed the tall double post, which stood in the centre of the room, and which was shaped like the guillotine. An evil look was on his face: the grin of a death-dealing monster, savage and envious. The others laughed in grim content. Merlin grunted a surly approval. He had no cause to love the provincial coal-heaver who had raised a raucous voice to threaten him. Then, nodding to one another, the last of the patriots, satisfied with this night's work, passed out into the night. The watchman was making his rounds, carrying his lantern, and shouting his customary cry: "Inhabitants of Paris, sleep quietly. Everything is in order, everything is at peace." CHAPTER XXII The close of day. Déroulède had spent the whole of this same night in a wild, impassioned search for Juliette. Earlier in the day, soon after Anne Mie's revelations, he had sought out his English friend, Sir Percy Blakeney, and talked over with him the final arrangements for the removal of Madame Déroulède and Anne Mie from Paris. Though he was a born idealist and a Utopian, Paul Déroulède had never for a moment had any illusions with regard to his own popularity. He knew that at any time, and for any trivial cause, the love which the mob bore him would readily turn to hate. He had seen Mirabeau's popularity wane, La Fayette's, Desmoulin's--was it likely that _he_ alone would survive the inevitable death of so ephemeral a thing? Therefore, whilst he was in power, whilst he was loved and trusted, he had, figuratively and actually, put his house in order. He had made full preparations for his own inevitable downfall, for that probable flight from Paris of those who were dependent upon him. He had, as far back as a year ago, provided himself with the necessary passports, and bespoken with his English friend certain measures for the safety of his mother and his crippled little relative. Now it was merely a question of putting these measures into execution. Within two hours of Juliette Marny's arrest, Madame Déroulède and Anne Mie had quitted the house in the Rue Ecole de Médecine. They had but little luggage with them, and were ostensibly going into the country to visit a sick cousin. The mother of the popular Citizen-Deputy was free to travel unmolested. The necessary passports which the safety of the Republic demanded were all in perfect order, and Madame Déroulède and Anne Mie passed through the north gate of Paris an hour before sunset, on that 24th day of Fructidor.