The least disorder in the box he searched may put Basterga on the alert, and wreck my plans." They did not answer.

They felt one and all, Petitot and Baudichon no less than Fabri, that they had done this man an injustice.

His passion, his chagrin, his singleness of aim, the depth of his disappointment, disarmed even those who were in the daily habit of differing from him.
Was this--this the man whom they had secretly accused of lukewarmness?
And to whom they had hesitated to entrust the safety of the city?
They had done him wrong.

They had not credited him with a tithe of the feeling, the single-mindedness, the patriotism which it was plain he possessed.
They stood silent, while Blondel, aware of the precipice, to the verge of which his improvident passion had drawn him, watched them out of the corner of his eye, uncertain how far their comprehension of the scene had gone.

He trembled to think how nearly he had betrayed his secret; and took the more shame to himself, inasmuch as in cooler blood he saw the lad's error to be far from irremediable.