Now was my chance. I slipped from my hiding-place, clad in the driver's blouse and peaked cap, with a whip over my shoulder and a straw between my lips, and strolled quietly and to all appearance unconcernedly out into the street. If any saw me come out, they probably set me down as one of the tumbrel drivers on his way to breakfast, and paid me no more heed than such a fellow deserved; indeed less, for on that day of all others Paris was in a tremendous ferment. The tocsin was ringing from the steeples, there was a rush of people towards the Tuileries, and cries of "_A bas Robespierre_"--the most wonderful cry Paris had heard yet. In the midst of it all I walked unchallenged to the Quai Necker. Alas! any hopes I had of comfort there were vanished. The familiar top storey stood empty, with the hole still in the roof, and six doors away, where I had left them last, the attic was empty too. CHAPTER TWENTY. A VOICE IN THE DARK. All Paris seemed up that morning, hurrying to the scene of the day's wonder. There was a rumour of fighting in the streets, of guns being pointed against the sacred doors of the Convention, of tyrants fallen and heads to fall. To Paris, sick of blood and strained by terror, it seemed like the end of all things, and the people with one accord rushed eastward to witness the dawn of their new revolution. I, who had had enough of revolutions, wandered disconsolately westward along the river-bank till the rush was over and the sounds behind me grew faint in the distance. Where next? I asked myself. Whether Citizen Robespierre fell or not, there was not much quarter to be hoped for by a runaway from the Conciergerie. Paris was a rat-trap still, and though large, I should be cornered sooner or later. As I ruminated thus, I came to a bridge below which was moored a barge, laden with goods and spread over with its great waterproof sheet, ready to drop down the stream. How I envied the two men in charge of her, to whom the barrier of the city would offer no obstacle, and who were free to go in and out of the rat-trap as they pleased! Apparently they were not so sensible of their good fortune as I was, for they were quarrelling angrily, and filling the air with their insults and recriminations. "Villain! robber!" I heard one say, who seemed to be assistant to the other, "I demand what is due to me." "It will be paid you at Rouen, fool," said the other. "I shall not be there to receive it," snarled the other. "I will have it here, or nowhere." "What, you will dare to desert! It is treason against the Republic whom we serve. I will denounce you." "Idiot, I defy you," exclaimed the man, stripping off his jersey and flinging his red cap on the deck. "I spit on your Republic which does not pay its debts!" "I promise you shall receive all arrears at Rouen," replied the other. "I am under penalties to reach Havre in a week." The mutineer laughed savagely. "Pay me what you owe me, and you shall reach it."