Sir Andrew Ffoulkes had left his young wife because of that, and Armand had demanded it as a right to join hands in this noble work.

Blakeney had not left France for over three months now.

Backwards and forwards between Paris, or Nantes, or Orleans to the coast, where his friends would meet him to receive those unfortunates whom one man's whole-hearted devotion had rescued from death; backwards and forwards into the very hearts of those cities wherein an army of sleuth-hounds were on his track, and the guillotine was stretching out her arms to catch the foolhardy adventurer.
Now it was about the Dauphin.

They all waited, breathless and eager, the fire of a noble enthusiasm burning in their hearts.

They waited in silence, their eyes fixed on the leader, lest one single word from him should fail to reach their ears.
The full magnetism of the man was apparent now.