“I?” asked his cousin. “What about me? I am not going to leave the King, if that is what you mean.” His tone was calm and even languid as, crossing his silk-clad legs, he studied the effects produced by the light on the diamonds of his right shoe-buckle. “Though he will do nothing to help himself, it is still possible to do something for him.” “To try to do something—and to perish in the trying,” corrected Gilbert. The Vicomte shrugged his shoulders. “Qu’importe?” he said lightly. “Personally, I do not much care. But this is gloomy talk, when we are set at last on such a hopeful track. For now it is do or die—the last throw—as you know.” “Yes, but I want to hear more about your plans.” Louis raised his eyebrows. “But surely, Gilbert, you are well enough posted up in them?” “Not so thoroughly, perhaps, as you imagine,” replied the Marquis with an enigmatical smile. The situation had its humours, grim though they were. “You forget, too, that some time has elapsed since you wrote.” “True,” conceded Louis. “Well, things have advanced since then, as you can guess. To put it briefly, the events of the 20th have disgusted the Gironde.” “Indeed?” said Gilbert. “And, in consequence,” continued the Vicomte, lowering his voice, “we are now so sure of them, that on the 24th letters were despatched to Coblentz, to the Princes.” “Joint letters from the Girondins and the Royal party, I presume?” Louis nodded. “Letters signed by both. Naturally, speculation is very rife as to the consequences of the unexpected combination.” “So I can imagine,” commented his listener. Tragedy still held Comedy’s mask before her face. “And what do you yourselves think will be the result?” “We hope that it will be the means of urging on Prussia’s declaration of war, which is sure to come sooner or later. Of course, the question is whether it will come in time. You have no doubt gathered that a certain reaction has set in since the 20th, and that the King may almost be said to be popular just now. If that will last, and if that damned Lafayette will but keep his finger out of the pie—thank Heaven! he went back to-day, and in disgrace too——” “Well, if the King’s popularity lasts, what then?” “My dear Gilbert, what need to ask? With that, and the support of the Gironde, we shall have the game in our hands in a few weeks. Come now, what do you think yourself of our prospects?” “What do I think?” echoed the Marquis slowly. “Why, this—that for a party in your desperate position you are astonishingly trustful. What if the Gironde is playing you false?” “Impossible!” said the Vicomte with decision. “They are committed too far. Why, Vergniaud himself—— And if you think that, why the devil did you join us?” Château-Foix put down his ace. “Your question is very pertinent, Louis,” he replied in level tones. “I never did.” “You never joined!” repeated Saint-Ermay in amazement. “I don’t understand you!”