"I have just issued orders to that effect. I leave you two men who will know how to perform their duty in every respect. Adieu, citizen; I shall not forget your request, nor the _good example_ you present to the patriots in asking the arrest of Citizeness Desmarais. This very day Citizen Marat shall be enlightened by me on your patriotism." With these words, which bore a double significance, the commissioner bowed low to Madam Desmarais and her daughter, marched out with his men, who carried with them the chest of arms, and said to two of the agents who accompanied him: "You are to remain outside the parlor at the orders of Citizen Desmarais;" and added in a lower tone: "Keep watch around the house; follow the young woman who will go out." CHAPTER XIII. THE HOWL RINGS FALSE. At the same instant Madam Desmarais was saying to herself: "Let me hasten to write to my brother that he may even to-night quit Paris, by the St. Victor barrier." And, rushing to her husband as the double doors of the parlor swung to, she exclaimed joyfully: "Ah, my friend, what a fine fellow that commissioner is! He does like you--he _roars with the tigers and howls with the wolves_!" "What!" exploded the lawyer, taken aback. "Do you mean to say--?" "I mean this worthy man understood that in demanding my arrest, poor friend, you were only playing a role. Not so, Charlotte?" "Oh, yes! For he said to mother, 'In these times of revolution, honest men are obliged to wear a mask.'" "And I made answer," continued Madam Desmarais, "that, in fact, you were obliged to _howl with the wolves_, as you have so often repeated to me to-day." "Wretched woman!" screamed the lawyer, as he sprang at his wife, his fist raised in a paroxysm of rage. "Father, recollect yourself, for pity!" A moment later Desmarais's fury gave way to prostration. His features were overspread with an ashen pallor, he reeled, and had barely time to throw himself into an arm-chair, mumbling as if his senses had forsaken him--"I am lost!--The guillotine!" Madam Desmarais and her daughter flew to the advocate's side, raised his inert head, and made him breathe their salts. Hardly had he come to himself when Gertrude entered and announced: "Monsieur Billaud-Varenne asks to speak with monsieur, on a very urgent matter." The announcement of the visit of his colleague seemed to reanimate the lawyer. A glow of hope shone in his almost deathly countenance. He rose abruptly, saying: "Billaud must have seen St. Just. If he accepts my proposition, I am saved!" Then, in a curt, hard voice he addressed his wife: "Retire to your apartment, madam; I have to talk business, grave political business, with Citizen Billaud-Varenne." Followed by her daughter, Madam Desmarais went out, and her husband ordered Gertrude to show Citizen Billaud-Varenne into the parlor. As the maid left, the two police agents placed on watch were seated near the parlor door.