But I never doubted that I owed it to your good efforts, and that you had adopted the course suggested to you by my letter, and bought me from the Republic." La Boulaye flushed slightly as much at the contemptuous tone as at the words in which Ombreval referred to the Republic.
"It is not to me but to our good friend, M.La Boulaye, that you should address your thanks, Monsieur." "Ah?
Vraiment ?" exclaimed the Vicomte, turning a supercilious eye upon the Deputy, for with his freedom he seemed to have recovered his old habits.
"I have not sold you to the Citoyenne," said La Boulaye, the words being drawn from him by the other's manner.

"I am making her a present of you--a sort of wedding gift." And his lips smiled, for all that his eyes remained hard.
Ombreval made him no answer, but stood looking from the Deputy to Suzanne in some hesitation.

The expressions which his very lofty dignity prompted, his sense of fitness--feeble though it was--forbade him.

And so there followed a pause, which, however, was but brief, for La Boulaye had yet something to say.
It had just come to him with a dismaying force that in the haste of his escape from Paris with the Vicomte he had forgotten to return to his lodging for a passport that he was fortunately possessed of.

It was a laissez-passer, signed and left in blank, with which he had been equipped--against the possibility of the need for it arising--when he had started upon the Convention's errand to the Army of Dumouriez.
Whilst on his way to Robespierre's house to secure the order of release, he had bethought him of filling in that passport for three persons, and thus, since to remain must entail his ruin and destruction, make his escape from France with Mademoiselle and the Vicomte.