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354 "A stranger?" said the Seigneur reproachfully.

"Practically a stranger to me," said André-Louis.

"But she is not a stranger to me, André. She is my cousin and very dear and valued friend.  And, mon Dieu, what you say but increases the urgency of getting her out of Paris.  She must be rescued, André, at all costs—she must be rescued!  Why, her case is infinitely more urgent than Aline's!"

He stood a suppliant before his godson, very different now from the stern man who had greeted him on his arrival. His face was pale, his hands shook, and there were beads of perspiration on his brow.

"Monsieur my godfather, I would do anything in reason. But I cannot do this.  To rescue her might mean ruin for Aline and yourself as well as for me."

"We must take the risk."

"You have a right to speak for yourself, of course."

"Oh, and for you, believe me, André, for you!" He came close to the young man. "André, I implore you to take my word for that, and to obtain this permit for Mme. de Plougastel."

André looked at him mystified. "This is fantastic," he said. "I have grateful memories of the lady's interest in me for a few days once when I was a child, and again more recently in Paris when she sought to convert me to what she accounts the true political religion. But I do not risk my neck for her—no, nor yours, nor Aline's."

"Ah! But, André..."

"That is my last word, monsieur. It is growing late, and I desire to sleep in Paris."

"No, no! Wait!" The Lord of Gavrillac was displaying signs of unspeakable distress. "André, you must!"

There was in this insistence and, still more, in the frenzied manner of it, something so unreasonable that André could not fail to assume that some dark and mysterious motive lay behind it.

"I must?" he echoed. "Why must I? Your reasons, monsieur?"