The latter made haste to obey. It was time. In another moment Dolores would have been obliged to witness an even more horrible spectacle than that upon which her eyes had rested a short while before. The shop was suddenly taken by storm. Several men with repulsive faces, long hair and cruel eyes, and whose clothing was thickly spattered with blood, entered the saloon, followed by a yelling crowd. People mounted on chairs and tables to obtain a look at them. They were the city executioners. They ordered wine which Bridoul hastened to place before them. One carried in his hand the newly decapitated head of a woman, whose fair hair was twined round his bare arm. Before drinking his wine he placed the head upon the counter. Coursegol closed his eyes to shut out the ghastly sight. He had recognized the features of the Princesse de Lamballe. When the men had finished their wine, one said: "Now we will have the hair of this citoyenne dressed so that Marie Antoinette will recognize her." And addressing Bridoul, he added: "Is there any hair-dresser in this neighborhood?" "About a hundred paces from here, on the Place de la Bastille," replied Bridoul. "On! on!" shouted the executioners. And taking the head of the unfortunate Princess they departed, accompanied by the crowd that had followed them from the prison. A few moments later the saloon was empty. Bridoul hastened into the back room. Coursegol followed him. Fortunately the two women had not seen what had occurred, and, thanks to Cornelia Bridoul's friendly offices, Dolores had regained her composure. "First of all, are you classed among the suspected characters?" the wine merchant inquired of Coursegol. "Are you trying to escape from your pursuers? Must I conceal you?" "No," replied Coursegol "We have come to Paris in the hope of finding Monsieur Philip." "Our old captain?" "The same," answered Coursegol, at once recounting the events with which the reader is already familiar. When the recital was ended, Bridoul spoke in his turn. "I am willing to swear that the captain is not in Paris. If he were, he, like all the rest of the nobles, would have been in great danger; and in peril, he would certainly have thought of his old soldier, Bridoul, for he knows he can rely upon my devotion." "Ah! you have not changed!" cried Coursegol, pressing his friend's hand. "No, I have not changed. As you knew me so will you find me. But, my good friend, we must be prudent. You did well to come to my house. You and your daughter must remain here. You are relatives of mine; that is understood. Later, we can make other arrangements; but this evening I shall take you to the political club to which I belong. I will introduce you as my brother-in-law, a brave patriot from the south." "But what the devil shall I do at the club?" inquired Coursegol. "What shall you do there? Why, you will howl with the wolves; that is the only way to save yourself from being eaten by them!" But Coursegol demurred.