Three days later, I received my notice for the following Sunday. The assembly was even larger than the first time and the play was even more enthusiastically applauded, if that be possible, than it had been on the previous reading. It was put to the vote and accepted unanimously, subject to some alterations which I was to arrange after consultation with M. Samson. Fortunately, M. Samson and I did not see eye to eye; I say fortunately, since the disagreement led to my recasting the whole play, which gained, by this re-handling, the prologue, the two acts at Stockholm, the epilogue at Rome and the entire part of Paula. When we come to the proper place, we will relate how these transformations came about; they left the _Metamorphoses_ of Ovid (of which a splendid edition had just been published by M. Villenave) a very long way behind. I must say a few words about M. de Villenave, who was one of the best informed and most original men of his day; and I must say a little about his wife, his son, his daughter and his home, all of which personages and things had a great influence on this first part of my life. CHAPTER XII Cordelier-Delanoue--A sitting of the Athénée--M. Villenave--His family--The one hundred and thirty-two Nantais--Cathelineau--The hunt _aux bleus_--Forest--A chapter of history--Sauveur--The Royalist Committee--Souchu--The miraculous tomb--Carrier During the period of the first representations of the English actors (which coincided with my evening attendance at the offices of the Secretariat) I made the acquaintance of a young fellow named Cordelier-Delanoue. It came about very naturally. We were publishing _Psyché_ at that time and Delanoue had sent us a poem which he called _Hamlet_; this we inserted in our journal, he came to thank us and Adolphe and I became friendly with him, I especially. Delanoue was the son of one of the generals of the Revolution, who had formerly known my father; this circumstance had drawn us together and our dramatic and political sympathies did the rest. One night Delanoue came to see me at the office and suggested taking me to the Athénée while the courier from the Palais-Royal went to Neuilly and back. I was ignorant about many things, so it will not be any cause for astonishment, I hope, if I admit that I had never heard of the Athénée. M. Villenave was giving a literary soirée there that evening. I did not know who M. Villenave was; and my ignorance in this respect was a little more excusable than my not knowing what the Athénée was. However, I accepted. At that time, I had not the horror of making fresh acquaintances which beset me later. I was promised something connected with literature and literary people, and a promise such as this would have urged me on to cross the razor edge which serves as a bridge between the Mohammadan Paradise and this earth. I could cross such an edge now, prone though I am to giddiness, but it would be in order to fly from the very thing I then went to seek.