room. The sick man appeared to be drowsy, his head rolled over to one
side, his eyes closed. He had evidently forgotten all about the ring.

A woman's voice, shrill and peremptory, broke the silence which had
become oppressive:

"Here, citizen Mole, I want you! There's not a bit of wood chopped up
for my fire, and how am I to make the coffee without firing, I should
like to know?"

"The ring, citizen," Mole urged gruffly.

Marat had been roused by the woman's sharp voice. He cursed her for a
noisy harridan; then he said fretfully:

"It will do presently--when you are ready to start. I said nine
o'clock... it is only four now. I am tired. Tell citizeness Evrard to
bring me some hot coffee in an hour's time.... You can go and fetch me
the Moniteur now, and take back these proofs to citizen Dufour. You will
find him at the 'Cordeliers,' or else at the printing works.... Come
back at nine o'clock. ... I am tired now... too tired to tell you where
to find the house which is off the Chemin de Pantin. Presently will
do...."

Even while he spoke he appeared to drop into a fitful sleep. His two
hands were hidden under the sheet which covered the bath. Mole watched
him in silence for a moment or two, then he turned on his heel and
shuffled off through the ante-room into the kitchen beyond, where
presently he sat down, squatting in an angle by the stove, and started
with his usual stolidness to chop wood for the citizeness' fire.