It was not for Percy, who did not know her, to save Jeanne or to guard her.

That task was Armand's, who worshipped her, and who would gladly die beside her if he failed to rescue her from threatened death.
Resolution was not slow in coming.

A tower clock inside the city struck the hour of six, and still no sign of Percy.
Armand, his certificate of safety in his hand, walked boldly up to the gate.
The guard challenged him, but he presented the certificate.

There was an agonising moment when the card was taken from him, and he was detained in the guard-room while it was being examined by the sergeant in command.
But the certificate was in good order, and Armand, covered in coal-dust, with the perspiration streaming down his face, did certainly not look like an aristocrat in disguise.

It was never very difficult to enter the great city; if one wished to put one's head in the lion's mouth, one was welcome to do so; the difficulty came when the lion thought fit to close his jaws.
Armand, after five minutes of tense anxiety, was allowed to cross the barrier, but his certificate of safety was detained.