"It was the day of the riots," she continued; "he would go out, and I
told him I did not think that the streets would be safe for a foreigner
like him: for he always wore such very fine clothes, and I made sure
that the starving men and women of Paris would strip them off his
back when their tempers were roused. But he only laughed. He gave
me a bit of paper and told me that if he did not return I might
conclude that he had been killed, and if the Committee of Public
Safety asked me questions about me, I was just to show the bit of
paper and there would be no further trouble."

She had talked volubly, more than a little terrified at Merlin's scowls,
and the attitude of Citizen Tinville, who was known to be very severe
if anyone committed any blunders.

But the Citizeness--her name was Brogard and her husband's brother
kept an inn in the neighbourhood of Calais--the Citizeness Brogard
had a clear conscience. She held a license from the Committee of
Public Safety for letting apartments, and she had always given due
notice to the Committee of the arrival and departure of her lodgers.
The only thing was that if any lodger paid her more than ordinarily
well for the accommodation and he so desired it, she would send in
the notice conveniently late, and conveniently vaguely worded as to
the description, status and nationality of her more liberal patrons.

This had occurred in the case of her recent English visitor.

But she did not explain it quite like that to Citizen Foucquier Tinville
or to Citizen Merlin.

However, she was rather frightened, and produced the scrap of paper