[Illustration: LOVE, MASTER OF HEARTS.] Confessedly, under the New Tyranny, there is nothing to engage the great heart and soul. Sick of the murderous scramble for pelf and power, he withdraws from most political activity, though still able to exert a wide influence. * * * * * About this time twenty-two political rivals of Robespierre--the Girondists--were sent by one decree to the guillotine. Danton, vainly pleading for mercy, saw that the Committee of Safety machine was being made an instrument of slaughter. "France must be purged of all vice!" was Robespierre's sanctimonious reply to his passionate protest. Not long after, the rival masters of France faced one another in the hall of the Revolutionary Tribunal, whereof Jacques-Forget-Not was President. "Well works this Tribunal you established, Danton!" said Robespierre, in glee at the increasing number of executions. "It was established," replied the pock-marked man solemnly, "to punish the enemies of the people. Now through you--Robespierre--France rivers with innocent blood!" ... God help our hero and heroine if they should encounter its dread fury! CHAPTER XXI ADVENTURES OF A PILGRIM Some parts of France continued to be held by the royalists after the establishment of the Republic. Insurrectionary war raged in the provinces, particularly the stubborn war of La Vendee, and certain loyal fortresses like Caen managed to resist capture. It was thus as a prisoner of the royalist faction, and quite out of touch with worldshaking events, that our young hero Chevalier Maurice de Vaudrey lived through the earlier period of the Revolution. A love-message from him through Picard to Henriette--an unsuccessful attempt to escape; a glimpse of the still handsomely frizzed and powdered head gazing through trefoil Gothic window on the outer sunshine and liberty:--such is all that we may see of de Vaudrey's strangely trussed up life during this time. He was still enshrined in the heart of the little seamstress in the Paris faubourg, still dear to his aunt the Countess who with her husband was an emigre beyond the borders. Otherwise, no hermit nor solitary was more completely effaced from the world. The first light of hope was brought to Caen by a messenger from the Countess, who had managed to smuggle through a letter or two and a small box of gold. "I dare not advise you," his kind Aunt wrote. "Escape into France would invite your death as an aristocrat. On the other hand, if you make use of the accompanying pardon signed by your uncle the Count, the Governor of Caen will probably enroll you for the inhuman and useless war of La Vendee. Take the money, my dear Nephew, and use it as you deem best--the messenger will secure it for you outside the prison until you need it!"