As for Jacques, that ruffian was now eyeing the blind lass closely, and muttering: "Not bad-looking--I'll see to it no other man gets her!" He slapped his knife villainously. CHAPTER VII TANGLED SKEINS Henriette Girard had not only been saved from dishonor by Chevalier de Vaudrey, but she had won a devoted friend. Through his connections, the Chevalier knew much that was passing in the half-world. The mystery of the happenings at the coach house was cleared by him. "Your cousin M. Martin," he said, "was found drugged in a wineshop to which presumably the man La Fleur had enticed him. It was easy then for La Fleur to pose as Martin and kidnap you. "I grieve to say it, abductions of the poor and friendless are common with the roues of fashion. Their families are of such influence that the police rarely interfere. "But there will be an end of this--if I mistake not," said the Chevalier, "the people mean to put an end to these seignorial 'privileges'!" [Illustration: THE MARQUIS DE PRAILLE IS ENRAPTURED BY THE LITTLE VISION FROM THE STAGE COACH (HENRIETTE PLAYED BY LILLIAN GISH.)] It was in one of his frequent talks at the simple lodgings to which he had conducted her the night of Bel-Air. Swiftly they had retraced the steps of the stricken Louise even to the pier edge over the darkling Seine. Horrified and trembling, Henriette feared the worst. "It is not likely she was drowned," said the Chevalier gravely. "Someone must have been about, to save her. Do not be discouraged, Mademoiselle, if our search for Louise takes several days. We are without a clew--groping, like her, in the dark. But we shall find her, never fear!" The confident words gave tiny comfort to the elder girl as he bade his adieux in the parlor of the respectable lodging house he had found for her--the same caravansary (had they but known it) that housed the then obscure Maximilien Robespierre. She strove to thank him for his kindness when he interrupted her: "Don't thank _me_, Mademoiselle, I owe _you_ a debt of gratitude, for you have restored to me ideals sweet as childhood!" Unconsciously the young people standing there, drew closer to one another until their lips met. Each was almost too astonished for words. Fine breeding came to de Vaudrey's aid. He apologized--and promised not to let it happen again! Sincerity spoke in the young man's earnest eyes and his respectful kiss of her small hand at parting. Was indeed this youthful cynic transformed by the flower-like influence of the girl? He went away all eagerness to pursue the lost sister's quest, promising that no stone--police or other--should be left unturned in the search. * * * * * And here--where the orphans' eventful epoch becomes entwined with the lives of the great and with the darkening storm and impending passion of the Revolution--it is well to acquaint our readers further with the de Vaudreys.