"I bring glorious news!" cried the actor excitedly. "Robespierre, at one time released by the aid of Henriot, has been rearrested. He has attempted suicide. Henriot, St. Just, Couthon, are also arrested. They will all be sent to the guillotine. The convention triumphs. The Commune is defeated. The Reign of Terror is at an end." The news was received with a great shout of joy. "Listen," called out Gaillard, "and you will learn what the people think." The booming of guns and the ringing of bells throughout the city verified his statement. "We have won!" said Colonel Tournay. "Let us celebrate the victory by this feast that Beaurepaire has provided!" exclaimed St. Hilaire. Tournay drew Edmé into the recess of one of the large windows. The sound of a whole city rejoicing at the abolition of the Reign of Terror filled the air. In the room at the back the voices of Gaillard and St. Hilaire were heard in joyful conversation. For a moment they stood in silence. She looked into his eyes and read the question there. [Illustration: A MOMENT THEY STOOD IN SILENCE] "Yes," her eyes answered. "In order to save your life," he said, "Father Ambrose once stated that you and I were man and wife. It was a subterfuge, and had no other meaning. We now stand before him once again; will you let him marry us now?" "Yes, Robert." With a look of pride and happiness upon his face Tournay faced about and addressed the company. "There can be no more fitting time than this," he said, "to present to you my bride," and he looked proudly down at Edmé who still had her arm through his. "Father Ambrose," Tournay went on, "will you marry us now?" The priest, who had evidently had a premonition of the event, was all prepared; and in the wainscoted salon, with the portraits of the old régime looking down upon them from the walls, Robert Tournay, a colonel of the Republic, and Edmé de Rochefort, of the ancient Régime of France, were made man and wife. "Let us drink a toast to them!" cried St. Hilaire as the happy party gathered about the table after the ceremony. "Long life and happiness to Colonel Robert Tournay and his bride!" Beaurepaire filled their glasses with some rare old Burgundy, which he drew from some hidden stores in the cellar, and the toast was drunk with enthusiasm. St. Hilaire's eyes met Madame d'Arlincourt's, and the look that was interchanged foretold their future. Tournay stood in silence for a moment, and when he did speak there was a note in his voice which showed how deep was his emotion. "I will give you a toast. Let us drink to the new France; for after all," he continued, looking from one to the other, "we are all Frenchmen. The fate of France must be our fate. With her we must stand or fall. A new France has now risen from the ashes of the old. To her we turn with new hope." "Long live the Republic!" cried Gaillard.