CHAPTER XXVIII.
The unexpected.
The small party walked on in silence.

It seemed to consist of a very few men of the National Guard, whom Santerne had placed under the command of the soldier who had transmitted to him the orders of the Citizen-Deputies.
Juliette and Deroulede both vaguely wondered whither they were being led; to some other prison mayhap, away from the fury of the populace.
They were conscious of a sense of satisfaction at thought of being freed from that pack of raging wild beasts.
Beyond that they cared nothing.

Both felt already the shadow of death hovering over them.

The supreme moment of their lives had come, and had found them side by side.
What neither fear nor remorse, sorrow nor joy, could do, that the great and mighty Shadow accomplished in a trice.
Juliette, looking death bravely in the face, held out her hand, and sought that of the man she loved.
There was not one word spoken between them, not even a murmur.
Deroulede, with the unerring instinct of his own unselfish passion, understood all that the tiny hand wished to convey to him.
In a moment everything was forgotten save the joy of this touch.

Death, or the fear of death, had ceased to exist.