And you, Maurice, run and change your clothes; and, above all, wash your hands, and sprinkle some perfume upon them." All present were so impressed with the imminence of the danger, that they were more than willing to obey the priest's orders.
Marie-Anne, as soon as she could be moved, was carried to a tiny room under the roof.Mme.

d'Escorval retired to her own apartment, and the servants went back to the office.
Maurice and the abbe remained alone in the drawing-room, silent and appalled by horrible forebodings.
The unusually calm face of the priest betrayed his terrible anxiety.
He now felt convinced that Baron d'Escorval was a prisoner, and all his efforts were now directed toward removing any suspicion of complicity from Maurice.
"This was," he reflected, "the only way to save the father." A violent peal of the bell attached to the gate interrupted his meditations.
He heard the footsteps of the gardener as he hastened to open it, heard the gate turn upon its hinges, then the measured tramp of soldiers in the court-yard.
A loud voice commanded: "Halt!" The priest looked at Maurice and saw that he was as pale as death.
"Be calm," he entreated; "do not be alarmed.

Do not lose your self-possession--and do not forget my instructions." "Let them come," replied Maurice.

"I am prepared!" The drawing-room door was flung violently open, and a young man, wearing the uniform of a captain of grenadiers, entered.

He was scarcely twenty-five years of age, tall, fair-haired, with blue eyes and little waxed mustache.