"How does it happen that we meet here?" asked Tournay after a moment, during which he had gazed at her in surprise. "Never mind about me for the present," she said, looking up in his face, half defiantly, half admiringly; for as he stood before her, framed in the open door, he was a striking picture, with his handsome, bronzed face and brilliant uniform. "Let us speak of your affairs," she continued. "I am told the committee has ordered you to await its permission before returning to the army." "How did you know that?" he demanded in surprise. "Oh, I know many things that are going on in this strange world," and she gave the old toss of her head. "Now do not talk, but listen. You must return to the army. A soldier like you is at a disadvantage among these intriguers. They will suspect you for the simple reason that they suspect every one. You, who are accustomed to fight openly, will fall a victim to their wiles." "My enemies may find that I can strike back," said Tournay quietly. La Liberté shrugged her shoulders. "Did you receive a letter this afternoon?" she asked quickly. "Did you write that letter?" "I never write letters," she answered significantly; "but if you received one and read it, you know the names of some of your enemies. What can you do with such an array against you? I repeat, you are no match for them. You must go back to your command." "That is what I desire above all else," answered Tournay. "You can go to-morrow, if you wish," said the demoiselle. "How?" "By listening to what the president of the committee has to say to you, and agreeing to it. Yield to his demands, whatever they may be, and you will be permitted to set out to-morrow." "I shall be glad to meet the committee more than halfway. I will agree to everything they wish, if I can do so consistently." "Consistently!" she repeated. "I see you will be obstinate." Then she stopped and looked full in his face. "I might know that you would after all only act according to your convictions, and that any advice would be thrown away on you. Well, I must say I like you better that way, and were I a man I should do the same." She placed one hand upon her hip where hung a small poniard suspended by a silver chain about her waist, and went on earnestly: "But listen to this word of advice. You, who have been so long absent from Paris, do not realize Robespierre's power. It is sometimes the part of a brave man to yield. Give way to him as much as your _consistency_ will permit. Now adieu." She turned away; then facing him suddenly with an impulsive gesture she came toward him. "Compatriot!" she said with an unwonted tremble in her voice, "will you take my hand?" He took the hand extended to him. "I do not forget, Marianne, that you and I both came from La Thierry. If ever you are in need of a friend, you can rely upon me."