"That's true. I do not hide it--from patriots." His voice gave a meaning inflection to the ending; then he added, irritably: "There are more ways than one of serving the nation. I repeat, leave me mine." He broke off. "Have you written anything? Give it to me." Barabant extended the precious manuscript. He took it, but before spreading it upon his knee, he said: "After all, you are right. I have a way to convince you. You shall see. But first for this." He began to read, with approval. "Good--good"; "very good"; "excellent." At the end he brought his hand down upon his knee with a slap. "Tonnerre de Dieu, that is well put!" Barabant, who was soaring in the seventh heaven, made a superhuman effort and forced back a smile. Dossonville, much amused, tapped him on the shoulder. "Come, it is not a crime to be pleased with one's self." "You think it will do?" Barabant stammered. "Splendid! And now to convince this suspicious republican." He eyed him a moment, enjoying the surprise his next words would cause. "Suppose you return with me to Santerre." Barabant, astounded at this acquaintance with his doings, dropped his jaw. "So, do you think I would employ you without some knowledge of your actions?" He enjoyed for a moment Barabant's embarrassment. "Come, and Santerre shall reassure you." At the door he paused, cast a rapid glance at the impoverished fittings, and drew out his purse. "Republican or not, the essential thing is to dine." Then evading the young fellow's thanks, he led the way into the city. It was now toward twilight. The streets were choked with laborers returning home. In the air was an unwonted stir, a muttering, defiant and eager, as the crowd discussed openly, with impassioned questions, the prospective attack on the Tuileries. "It is for to-night, sure?" "For to-night, yes, at the tocsin." "It's true, is it, the National Guards are coming over?" "They've armed the Marseillais." "Who?" "Pétion." "Vive Pétion!" Hundreds of National Guards fraternized with the crowd, reassuring them. Occasionally was to be seen the glimmer of a weapon, a scythe, a cutlass, or a half-concealed dagger. Questioners stopped them from time to time. "Is it true, we are to attack to-night?" Dossonville shrugged his shoulders. "If the tocsin sounds you are. That is all I know." From time to time there were new accessions in the streets; until, as the two approached the Rue St. Antoine, they were forced to beg their way at every step. Dossonville, his head flung back, reviewed the throng from his great height. "What a people! Is there anything they will not dare?" he exclaimed. "Brave people! Sublime people!" They passed through a side street, deserted except for some straggler hastening toward the human torrent. Dossonville, in a burst of confidence, laid his hand on his companion's shoulder.