"It is not worth saving," replied La Brousse; and there was a noise of feet moving towards the door. As we have said, Clara de la Roche trembled in every limb; but she did not hesitate: with a firm hand, she withdrew the bolt of the concealed door, and in the next moment stood before her pursuers. The scene around her was one that might well make her heart quail. In the midst of a number of ferocious faces, sat the well-known Carrier, one of the most sanguinary monsters which the French revolution had generated. His naked sword lay beside him on the table, and with his hand he pointed to the door, towards which a party of the soldiers were leading poor old La Brousse. In the other corner of the apartment, overpowered by the consciousness of base treachery, lay fainting on the floor the unhappy Ninette, not even noticed by those to whom she had betrayed the secret intrusted to her; and several soldiers were seen descending the staircase that led to the rooms above, through which they had been prosecuting an ineffectual search. The suddenness of Clara's appearance, and her extraordinary beauty, seemed for a moment to surprise even Carrier himself, and starting up, he gazed upon her for an instant, at the same time making a sign with his hand to the soldiers who were leading the old farmer towards the door. Clara was very pale, and her heart beat with all that hurried throbbing to which the struggle between horror, terror, and noble resolution, might well give rise. "I claim your promise, sir!" she said, advancing towards the leader of the revolutionary force: "I claim your promise, sir! You said, if Clara de la Roche were given up, yonder old man's life should be spared." Carrier paused, and still gazed upon her; but his pause proceeded from no feeling of mercy towards poor old La Brousse, nor from any difficulty in finding an excuse for violating his promise. Such considerations never impeded the progress of a Jacobin. He did pause, however; and with a look, conveying to the mind of the unhappy girl more feelings of repugnance than the aspect of death itself might have done, he answered; "You are as bold as you are beautiful. Knowing yourself to be a brigand,[5] and the daughter of a brigand, are you not afraid?" -------------------- [Footnote 5: The name of brigand was the common term applied by the revolutionists to the Vendeans.] -------------------- "I have done no wrong," replied Clara, "and why should I fear?" "Well, well," he answered, "the time may come, and the time will come, when you will fear; and when such is the case, send for Carrier, who may then, perhaps, find means to console you. As for that old brigand," he added, assuming an air of dignity, "I will keep my word. Set him free; but take care, Citizen La Brousse, how you venture to shelter an aristocrat again. There will be no mercy for a second offence."