Chanlouineau was standing only a few feet from the speaker with his gun in his hand. If a man had uttered those words he would have been instantly killed. Marie-Anne did not deign to notice them. “Mademoiselle will turn back,” she said, calmly; “and as she can reach Montaignac by the other road, two men will accompany her as far as Courtornieu.” She was obeyed. The carriage turned and rolled away, but not so quickly that Marie-Anne failed to hear Blanche cry: “Beware, Marie! I will make you pay dearly for your insulting patronage!” The hours were flying by. This incident had occupied ten minutes more--ten centuries--and the last trace of order had disappeared. M. Lacheneur could have wept with rage. He called Maurice and Chanlouineau. “I place you in command,” said he; “do all that you can to hurry these idiots onward. I will ride as fast as I can to the Croix d’Arcy.” He started, but he was only a short distance in advance of his followers when he saw two men running toward him at full speed. One was clad in the attire of a well-to-do bourgeois; the other wore the old uniform of captain in the Emperor’s guard. “What has happened?” Lacheneur cried, in alarm. “All is discovered!” “Great God!” “Major Carini has been arrested.” “By whom? How?” “Ah! there was a fatality about it! Just as we were perfecting our arrangements to capture the Duc de Sairmeuse, the duke surprised us. We fled, but the cursed noble pursued us, overtook Carini, seized him by the collar, and dragged him to the citadel.” Lacheneur was overwhelmed; the abbe’s gloomy prophecy again resounded in his ears. “So I warned my friends, and hastened to warn you,” continued the officer. “The affair is an utter failure!” He was only too correct; and Lacheneur knew it even better than he did. But, blinded by hatred and anger, he would not acknowledge that the disaster was irreparable. “Let Mademoiselle de Counornieu pass without hinderance.” He affected a calmness which he did not in the least feel. “You are easily discouraged, gentlemen,” he said, bitterly. “There is, at least, one more chance.” “The devil! Then you have resources of which we are ignorant?” “Perhaps--that depends. You have just passed the Croix d’Arcy; did you tell any of those people what you have just told me?” “Not a word.” “How many men are there at the rendezvous?” “At least two thousand.” “And what is their mood?” “They are burning to begin the struggle. They are cursing our slowness, and told me to entreat you to make haste.” “In that case our cause is not lost,” said Lacheneur, with a threatening gesture. “Wait here until the peasants come up, and say to them that you were sent to tell them to make haste. Bring them on as quickly as possible, and have confidence in me; I will be responsible for the success of the enterprise.”