“_Et dona ferentes_,” said M. des Graves softly. “But I fear me Louis has long ago forgotten the Virgil we did together. May I also have the passage relating to Madame d’Espaze?” “It is further on, I think. “‘I am sure that you must know how there was never yet a successful conspiracy without a woman in it. We too have a divinity who holds the threads of our destinies, and (we hope) those of France. When I tell you that she is as charming a hostess as she is a plotter, you will guess that her salon is always well attended. Indeed, it is the possession of that same salon which makes Madame d’Espaze so useful. And if rumour has coupled her name somewhat too closely with that of Lecorrier, the Girondin, M. des Graves will tell you that calumny generally dogs the footsteps of the good, as from my own experience I know that it tracks those of the fair. The other day, for instance. . . .’ “The rest, as you know, is not pertinent,” concluded the Marquis drily. “Yet I am inclined to think that there is more pertinence in the remark about a woman’s rôle in a plot than the writer knows,” muttered his listener. “I wish to goodness that Louis would think less about a woman’s rôle in any capacity,” returned the Marquis, with a slight show of impatience. “Can the boy for a moment,” said the Curé, ignoring Château-Foix’ remark, “believe in the sincerity of this divinity, as he calls her? Surely he must know that there was a suspicion of her being implicated in the affair of the Necklace? If the idea of a Girondin-_émigré_ alliance were not on the face of it an impossibility, the mere presence of a woman ought to be enough to rouse suspicion. The game is as old as Delilah and Jael.” “Then what do you make of this project of Louis’?” asked Gilbert. “It is a trap,” returned the Curé, quickening his steps and his speech. “I have not a doubt of it. Can a leopard change his spots? No; and can the deputies of the Gironde, who have spent their time since the autumn in passing laws against the _émigrés_, now be desirous of an alliance with them. The idea is preposterous.” “If they are,” said the Marquis, “their conversion must certainly have been speedy, for it is less than a month ago that the King’s constitutional guard was dismissed, and less still since Servan’s abominable proposals for the formation of a camp of scoundrels outside Paris passed the Assembly.” “And if our last news is true—as seems likely—that the King refuses his assent to that, as he has done to Vergniaud’s iniquitous scheme for deportation of priests, you may be quite sure that the Gironde will never forgive him.” “But if it is only a trap, a bogus conspiracy, what do the Girondin party hope to gain by it?” asked the Marquis, knitting his brows.