A lamp was burning in the room, and there in plain view upon the table were three packets of black-covered papers. She bent over them hastily and at once took up the file marked: "Warrants of the eighth Thermidor." With nervous fingers she ran them through, looking at each name until she came to that of "Tournay, Robert, ex-colonel." At sight of the name she gave a half-suppressed cry, and took it quietly from the others. "They shall not send you to the guillotine to-morrow, Robert," she breathed. Her first thought was how to make way with the fatal paper. She looked round the room; it had one window and two doors. The window looked out upon the street. One doorway led back into the tribunal chamber. Through the other, a small one, the two clerks must have passed out. She hastened towards it, praying fervently that they had omitted to fasten it. Vain prayer, the clerks had not been remiss in their duty here. It was locked. Yet it was not a strong barrier. A few blows struck with some heavy object might break it through; or better still there was a pistol in the drawer of one of the desks; with that she could blow the lock to atoms. Either method would make a noise, but she must take the risk. Just as these thoughts flashed through her mind, she saw to her consternation the door-handle turn, and heard the grating of a key on the outside. "The employees returning," she thought, and had just presence of mind enough to pass her left hand, which still clutched the death warrant, behind her back, when the door opened, and she was face to face with a woman. "Hello!" said the latter, "I expected to find Clément and Hanneton here. Who are you?" "I--I am,--I came in the place of Madame--of Citizeness Privat." "You seem a little put out, citizeness, at the sight of La Liberté. You have never seen me before? That's why, eh? Tell me, now, what are you doing here?" "I am doing the work of Citizeness Privat, who is ill," replied Edmé, recovering her self-possession. "Hum," said La Liberté with a slight sniff, as she closed the door and passed toward the centre of the room. Edmé slowly revolved on her heel, keeping her face toward La Liberté, and her left hand behind her back. "What are you trying to hide there?" demanded La Liberté quickly, whose bright brown eyes took in every motion of Edmé. "I have nothing to hide." La Liberté's glance went from Edmé to the warrants on the table, and then back to Edmé's face again. "You are hiding something behind your back," persisted La Liberté, trying to obtain a peep at it by making a circle around Edmé. Edmé continued to turn, always keeping her face toward La Liberté. The latter stopped. "I will see what you have there," she declared with a toss of her head, her curiosity aroused to the burning point. "You shall not. It does not concern you," was the firm reply. For an instant each looked into the other's eyes in silence. Both breathed defiance; both were equally determined.