“I suppose so,” said Leroy, with a quick sigh, and forcing a smile; “But--I should have liked to speak with her----” At that moment his shoulder was touched by a man he recognised as Johan Zegota. He gave the sign of the Revolutionary Committee bond, to which Leroy and his comrades responded. “Will you all three come over the way?” whispered Zegota cautiously; “We are entertaining Lotys to supper at the inn opposite,--the landlord is one of us. Thord saw you sitting here, and sent me to ask you to join us.” “With pleasure,” assented Leroy; “We will come at once!” Zegota nodded and disappeared. “So you will see the end of this escapade!” said Max Graub, a trifle crossly. “It would have been much better to go home!” “You have enjoyed escapades in your time, have you not, my friend? Some even quite recently?” returned Leroy gaily. “One or two more will not hurt you!” They edged their way out among the quietly moving crowd, and happening to push past General Bernhoff, that personage gave an almost imperceptible salute, which Leroy as imperceptibly returned. It was clear that the Chief of Police was acquainted with Pasquin Leroy, the ‘spy’ on whose track he had been sent by Carl Pérousse, and moreover, that he was evidently in no hurry to arrest him. At any rate he allowed him to pass with his friends unmolested, out of the People’s Assembly Rooms, and though he followed him across the road, ‘shadowing him,’ as it were, into a large tavern, whose lighted windows betokened some entertainment within, he did not enter the hostelry himself, but contented his immediate humour by walking past it to a considerable distance off, and then slowly back again. By and by Max Graub came out and beckoned to him, and after a little earnest conversation Bernhoff walked off altogether, the ring of his martial heels echoing for some time along the pavement, even after he had disappeared. And from within the lighted tavern came the sound of a deep, harmonious, swinging chorus-- “Way, make way!--for our banner is unfurled, Let each man stand by his neighbour! The thunder of our footsteps shall roll through the world, In the March of the Men of Labour!” “Yes!” said Max Graub, pausing to listen ere re-entering the tavern--“If--and it is a great ‘if’--if every man will stand by his neighbour, the thunder will be very loud,--and by all the deities that ever lived in the Heaven blue, it is a thunder that is likely to last some time! The possibility of standing by one’s neighbour is the only doubtful point!” CHAPTER XX THE SCORN OF KINGS