This opportunity was not far away, for Laurent had intimated to some of the municipals that he was about to resign his position as keeper of the royal child. His mother had recently died, family affairs were pressing, and in spite of his real affection for the boy, he felt that he had done his duty and that the time had come for his removal. His successor, a man named Citizen Lasne, was a staunch Republican, but this did not worry the Brotherhood, since they planned that the false king should be exchanged for the real one before his arrival. One other most important point had been gained by the society. Gomin had at last ceased his vacillating, and come out staunchly for the cause. Municipal Debièrne the toy-man, was responsible for this. Long and arduous had been his discussions, quiet and skilful his manipulations of the impressionable Gomin, till at length, inspired both by Debièrne's influence and his own very real sympathy for his pathetic little charge, he yielded. He was brought to the Brotherhood meeting, branded and sworn, and the cause was all but complete. Great was the rejoicing on the night of Gomin's initiation into the Brotherhood, and a huge feast was partaken of in celebration of this most important event. Jean's delight was beyond all bounds, and he had hard work to contain his bubbling spirits, when he heard a piece of news that considerably dampened his ardour. It was Caron who told him. It had leaked out that La Souris was again walking about as if no harm could threaten him! After having disappeared for many months, he had managed to wriggle himself into favour with someone in high authority, probably with the minor leader of the Convention, La Reveillière-Lepeaux, and was again expecting to resume his duties as municipal of the Tower. "Look out!" warned Caron. "He has you particularly in his eye, Jean! He can't do you much harm personally, for you are under the protection of the Brotherhood. Your place here is secure. But he may be the death of the whole plot if we don't watch out!" "I'll watch him like a cat!" declared the disgusted boy. "I'll keep him in sight every minute of the time he is in the Tower. Trust me! But, oh, _why_ did he have to come back?" The day was appointed at last for the first great move. Far in the night, on the twenty-sixth of March, Saintanac drove up in a tightly closed carriage to Citizeness Clouet's door. No one was about to see him carry into the house a young boy of ten years, desperately ill and half delirious. This child, some nameless waif from one of the charity hospitals, bore a haunting, ghastly resemblance to the little captive of the Tower.