the scoundrel and settle accounts with him before the guillotine robs you of that satisfaction."
"Not so fast," replied Dumont dryly. "Why should I take the risk? And ten to one he would decline to cross swords with me. No, Buton, so long as he dies it is not a great matter how. Indeed, an end at the hands of the public executioner is the more ignominious and therefore the better way. Once I am certain of his presence I have only to convey a word and the thing is done."
It was now Buton's turn to explain his errand. He, also, would have spoken with reserve, but Dumont's confidence and the trust which he reposed in his former friend encouraged him to be no less open.
"What you tell me makes our meeting all the more curious," he remarked, "for I too am on my way to find a proscribed aristocrat. There is this difference, however, that whereas you very justly would destroy a worthless libertine, my errand is to give timely warning to a virtuous nobleman whose chivalrous protection of my family, even at the risk of his own life, has placed me under an everlasting obligation."
"A dangerous business in these times," remarked Dumont significantly.
"Otherwise there would be little merit in it. However, Dumont, I am as good a citizen as you at heart, and to prove it I will accompany you and take part in whatever risk your adventure may entail."
"Good. And to show you that I am no less broad-minded, Philippe, I will also join forces with you in your enterprise, and back you up if it should be necessary."
They had walked along as they conversed, and by this time had reached the end of the street, where they paused, each waiting for the other to indicate the direction he would take.
