incident was undoubtedly one of the dreams which came to Lafayette in that inopportune and much-derided slumber on which the opposite party laid so much of the blame for that night’s events. But Louis’ scrapes were not always political. It was no mitigation of the Marquise’s annoyance—rather it was an addition of fresh fuel—to know that if Louis had come himself instead of writing she would have denied him nothing; there was no resisting his personal charm. But her principles, her prejudices, and her maternal jealousy, all of which the Vicomte de Saint-Ermay could vanquish when he was present, were apt, in his absence, to clamour the louder for their temporary extinction. It was so this evening. CHAPTER III A LETTER AND A CONCLAVE “C’est le caractère du Français, né malin, mais léger et bavard, de conspirer dans les endroits publics.” —FRANÇOIS COPPÉE, _Toute une Jeunesse_. Had the Marquise de Château-Foix been able to overhear the conversation between her son and M. des Graves she might perhaps have held her surmises to be in a measure justified. To M. des Graves’ conjecture of “something worse than a mistake,” Gilbert de Chantemerle had indeed made no immediate reply, but glanced thoughtfully at the letter in his hand. “You mean?” he asked at length. “I mean that there is more information in the Vicomte’s letter than he is himself aware of.” The younger man looked puzzled. “Naturally I see that Louis is under some misapprehension,” he said slowly, “since I have never, as he imagines, given in my adhesion to this scheme of which he speaks. Indeed, how could I, when his letter gives me the first hint of its existence?” They had reached the end of the terrace. “Will you read me the letter again?” asked the priest. “Or read, at least, the part relating to the plot, if so it is to be called.” His companion complied at once, turning to the first page of the fine, closely-written missive. “‘. . . I am extremely glad, my dear Gilbert, that you have allowed your name at least to be used in our plans, whether or no you mean to take any personal action. Any adhesion from Vendée will be of immense service to us. Between ourselves I am a little at a loss to think how you can have heard of our designs, but that is neither here nor there, since I have the important fact on good authority. I had meant soon to write to ask your opinion on the point, for, Liberal though you are . . . or were? . . . you cannot fail to see the possibilities of a strong Royalist-Girondin alliance, with possible assistance from the _émigrés_. The King is as passive as ever (it is a quality in which he excels), and we have not as yet communicated with Coblentz. I could, however, give you a goodly list of names on our side, were it not wiser to refrain. It seems strange, does it not, that the offer of alliance should have come from the enemy’s camp?’” The reader paused.