Part 20 (1/2)
”True.”
”I have,” said the man. ”It is pleasant to meet one who has a kindred interest.”
”I cannot claim so much as that,” said Barrington.
”That sudden stiffening of yours told its tale,” and the man smiled a little. ”Had I not been convinced I hardly dared have said so much.”
”Doubtless there was some danger,” laughed Barrington, ”but at least I am not a spy or an informer. The thought of a woman in such a crowd hurt me, citizen.”
”Some time we might be of service to each other,” the man returned. ”It is good to have a friend one can trust in these days. Unless I am much mistaken, I can be of service to you. My way is the same as yours if you will allow it. There is a shop yonder where the wine is good and where, until that shouting crowd comes home again, we shall attract no notice.”
How could this man be of service to him? For a moment he hesitated, scenting danger, but the next he had turned to walk with his new companion. He looked honest and might tell him something of value.
They entered the wine shop which was empty, and were served.
”Have you a toast, monsieur?”
”To the safety of that woman,” said Barrington.
”I drink it. To the safety of a woman.”
Barrington did not notice the slight difference in the toast; the words were hurriedly spoken and in a low tone.
”Do you know, monsieur, that only this morning an emigre returned to Paris disguised as a market woman?”
”What folly!” Barrington said. ”Does she chance to be the friend you are interested in?”
”My friend is an emigre, therefore I am a little sorry for this one,”
was the answer. ”I hear that careful search is being made for her. Such a search can hardly fail to be successful.”
”She may have good friends.”
”She has, I understand. One, at least, the man who helped her into Paris.”
”He had better have helped her to keep out of it,” Barrington returned, ”and yet, she may have come with some high purpose and he has served her cleverly. Is it dangerous to drink to his good health, monsieur? for I like a man who is a man even though he be my enemy.”
”There is no danger, I think,” and the man drank. ”She has another friend, too, one Lucien Bruslart.”
”I have heard of him,” said Barrington, quickly, ”but surely he is of the people. I think I have heard him praised as an honest patriot.”
”He is, yet he was an aristocrat.”
”You speak as though you had little faith in him.”
”No, no, you judge too hastily. I am of the people, yet, as you may have gathered, not wholly with the people. I take it that such is monsieur's position, too. Personally, I have not much faith in an aristocrat turned patriot, that is all.”
”Nor I, monsieur; still, I know nothing of this Monsieur Bruslart, so can venture no opinion.”
”You are a stranger in Paris?”
”Yes.”