"Edmond remained silent, and took no notice of Pierre's little overtures of friendliness, so young Germain ended by leaving him alone. It grew very dreary after their dinner--they had nothing to do, and for, no doubt, a good reason, the Citizeness Dupuis left them without a light. As it grew darker, several men in blouses, and a few women, strolled into the shop, which at first had been empty, and Edmee began to understand Marguerite's warning. For such snatches of talk as came to them were far from reassuring, and as the evening went on and more wine was drunk, the loud laughing, the coarse jokes about `Madame Guillotine,' and the good work she had done lately, the threats of what was yet to be done, grew so terrible, that more than once Edmee put her fingers in her ears. But she had to take them out again to sooth Edmond, who became wildly excited, at one moment declaring he would burst into the shop and tell the wretched hounds what he thought of them, and who _he_ was, with a touch of his old braggadocio; and next, bursting into tears, and saying it was all a trick, Marguerite had decoyed them there to betray them, and as soon as she came would herself give them up to their enemies. Pierre _could_ not think her capable of such hideous treachery, but still his mind misgave him somewhat, and when at last Marguerite herself came in by another door from that by which they had entered, he had been on the point of suggesting to Edmee to take flight and trust to themselves. "`What is the matter?' said the girl, when she had lighted a small taper and saw the state that Edmond was in. "Edmee and Pierre explained to her. "`Well, did I not warn you?' she said. `Though I own I did not think it would have been so noisy to-night, and I had hoped to be here sooner. It will do that fool no harm, all the same,' she added, and when Edmond, wild with fury, started up as if to strike her, she calmly seized his two arms and held them tightly behind his back, with a sort of contemptuous pity in her face, for she was very strong, twice as strong as poor thin Edmond. "`No, you shall not strike me, little Sarinet,' she said, and as if moved by a spirit of contradiction, `I will save you in spite of yourself, you foolish boy.' "Then in a stern, grave whisper she told them to come with her, and without waiting to say good-bye to the Citizeness Dupuis, who I daresay was not sorry to find them gone, she led them out by the way she had entered. "In silence for some length of time the two boys followed their strange guide, who had made Edmee take her arm, she herself carrying the bag containing all of her small possessions that the last of the Valmonts had ventured to bring away. Marguerite chose the darkest and narrowest streets, but she seemed to know her way with wonderful cleverness, considering she was not a Parisian by birth or breeding. At last she stopped.