I shall have to go soon, Armand, before the guard is changed at the Temple and the Tuileries.

This is the safest time, and God knows we are all of us sufficiently compromised already." The flush of shame deepened in St.Just's cheek.

There had not been a hint of reproach in the voice of his chief, and the eyes which regarded him now from beneath the half-closed lids showed nothing but lazy bonhomie.
In a moment now Armand realised all the harm which his recklessness had done, was still doing to the work of the League.

Every one of his actions since his arrival in Paris two days ago had jeopardised a plan or endangered a life: his friendship with de Batz, his connection with Mademoiselle Lange, his visit to her yesterday afternoon, the repetition of it this morning, culminating in that wild run through the streets of Paris, when at any moment a spy lurking round a corner might either have barred his way, or, worse still, have followed him to Blakeney's door.
Armand, without a thought of any one save of his beloved, might easily this morning have brought an agent of the Committee of General Security face to face with his chief.
"Percy," he murmured, "can you ever forgive me ?" "Pshaw, man!" retorted Blakeney lightly; "there is naught to forgive, only a great deal that should no longer be forgotten; your duty to the others, for instance, your obedience, and your honour." "I was mad, Percy.

Oh! if you only could understand what she means to me!" Blakeney laughed, his own light-hearted careless laugh, which so often before now had helped to hide what he really felt from the eyes of the indifferent, and even from those of his friends.
"No! no!" he said lightly, "we agreed last night, did we not?
that in matters of sentiment I am a cold-blooded fish.