"At your commands, citizen!" the sergeant replied, and at a sign from the other followed him to the most distant corner of the room. "Bend your ear and listen," Chauvelin murmured peremptorily. "I don't want those fools to hear." And, having assured himself that he and Chazot could speak without being overheard, he pointed to Rateau, then went on rapidly: "You will take this lout over to the cavalry barracks. See the veterinary. Tell him----" He paused, as if unable to proceed. His lips were trembling, his face, ashen-white, looked spectral in the gloom. Chazot, not understanding, waited patiently. "That lout," Chauvelin resumed more steadily after a while, "is in collusion with a gang of dangerous English spies. One Englishman especially--tall, and a master of histrionics--uses this man as a kind of double. Perhaps you heard . . .?" Chazot nodded. "I know, citizen," he said sagely. "The Fraternal Supper in the Rue St. Honoré. Comrades have told me that no one could tell who was Rateau the coalheaver and who the English milor." "Exactly!" Chauvelin rejoined dryly, quite firmly now. "Therefore, I want to make sure. The veterinary, you understand? He brands the horses for the cavalry. I want a brand on this lout's arm. Just a letter . . . a distinguishing mark . . ." Chazot gave an involuntary gasp. "But, citizen----!" he exclaimed. "Eh? What?" the other retorted sharply. "In the service of the Republic there is no 'but,' sergeant Chazot." "I know that, citizen," Chazot, abashed, murmured humbly. "I only meant . . . it seems so strange . . ." "Stranger things than that occur every day in Paris, my friend," Chauvelin said dryly. "We brand horses that are the property of the State; why not a man? Time may come," he added with a vicious snarl, "when the Republic may demand that every loyal citizen carry--indelibly branded in his flesh and by order of the State--the sign of his own allegiance." "'Tis not for me to argue, citizen," Chazot rejoined, with a careless shrug of the shoulders. "If you tell me to take citizen Rateau over to the veterinary at the cavalry barracks and have him branded like cattle, why . . ." "Not like cattle, citizen," Chauvelin broke in blandly. "You shall commence proceedings by administering to citizen Rateau a whole bottle of excellent eau de vie, at the Government's expense. Then, when he is thoroughly and irretrievably drunk, the veterinary will put the brand upon his left forearm . . . just one letter. . . . Why, the drunken reprobate will never feel it!" "As you command, citizen," Chazot assented with perfect indifference. "I am not responsible. I do as I'm told." "Like the fine soldier that you are, citizen Chazot!" Chauvelin concluded. "And I know that I can trust to your discretion." "Oh, as to that----!" "It would not serve you to be otherwise; that's understood. So now, my friend, get you gone with the lout; and take these few words of instruction with you, for the citizen veterinary."