“I have no friends, Réné. Be one to me. I am very unhappy!” I pressed, with one hand, the billet to my heart, and, with the other extended towards her chamber, I swore to accept and prove myself worthy of the friendship so mysteriously offered. Then, perceiving that all was quiet in her room, I went down stairs, took my gun, and, throwing one parting glance at her window, passed into the street. The curtain drew back, giving me a glimpse of her face. She nodded, throwing me a sad smile, and the curtain was replaced before the window. Small as the time was that I had for observation, I could not help thinking that her eyes were reddened with weeping. There was nothing wonderful in that. Had she not told me, in her letter, that she was very unhappy? There was a mystery, which, no doubt, thought I, time will clear up. I walked rapidly down the street, in the direction of the Place, knowing that, if I did not make a vigorous effort, I should never be able to tear myself away from the vicinity of the house. The men of Clermont, D’Islettes, and St. Menehould—in fact, all who followed the same route—were collected in one group. They drank one last toast, shook hands for the last time, and separated. Father Gerbaut conducted us as far as the top of the Hill des Réligieuses, and there renewed the offers that he had previously made to me. I reached Father Descharmes’ cottage, and, for the first time, found it lonely, and my room wretched. On the morrow, I re-commenced my usual routine of life; and though I had the same wish to make progress in my studies, still there was a dreary blank in my heart, which they could not fill. CHAPTER XI. WHAT “BROTHERHOOD” MEANT. I have told you all that took place up to this time. My life continued the same as ever, with the exception of a dreary feeling about the heart. The events that took place in Paris had no direct effect upon me. I heard them as one might hear the echo of a distant thunder-clap. In this way we heard of the abolition of titles, on the 1st of August; of the suppression of tithes; of the recognition of religious liberty; of the orgie of the gardes du corps; of the insult offered to the national cockade; of the days of the 5th and 6th of October; of the return of the King and Queen to Paris; of the plots and intrigues of the Court; of the prosecution of Bezenval and Favras; and of the publication of the Red Book by the assembly. The Red Book revealed all. The King, who had, on the 12th of February, sworn friendship to the Constitution, not only was in direct correspondence with the exiles, but went to Trêves, a military post, where his stables were situated, and which was in charge of Prince Lambese, the very man who had charged on the people in the garden of the Tuileries, on the 12th of July, and wounded an old man with his sabre, and trodden the helpless under foot.