"You said it belonged to the Marny family," continued the ex-
ambassador. "Juliette Marny is in England. I might meet her. I cannot
tell what may happen: but I feel that the historic necklace might prove
useful. Just as you please," he added with renewed indifference. "It
was a thought that flashed through my mind when you spoke--
nothing more."

"And to show you how thoroughly the government trusts you,
Citizen Chauvelin," replied Robespierre with perfect urbanity, "I will
myself direct that the Marny necklace be placed unreservedly in your
hands; and a sum of fifty thousand francs for your expenses in
England. You see," he added blandly, "we give you no excuse for a
second failure."

"I need none," retorted Chauvelin drily, as he finally rose from his
seat, with a sigh of satisfaction that this interview was ended at last.

But Robespierre too had risen, and pushing his chair aside he took a
step or two towards Chauvelin. He was a much taller man than the
ex-ambassador. Spare and gaunt, he had a very upright bearing, and
in the uncertain light of the candle he seemed to tower strangely and
weirdly above the other man: the pale hue of his coat, his light-
coloured hair, the whiteness of his linen, all helped to give to his
appearance at that moment a curious spectral effect.

Chauvelin somehow felt an unpleasant shiver running down his spine
as Robespierre, perfectly urbane and gentle in his manner, placed a
long, bony hand upon his shoulder.

"Citizen Chauvelin," said the Incorruptible, with some degree of