"Thank you, my dear d'Arlincourt, for your kindness in saying so," replied the marquis affably, "but I must tell you frankly that even if affairs in the Assembly had not claimed my time, other circumstances would have rendered my presence at this banquet impossible." "The king," continued d'Arlincourt quietly, "inquired for you several times and seemed much disturbed at your absence." "I am now on my way to wait upon his majesty," replied St. Hilaire. The count's face lighted up. "A tardy apology is better than none at all, for I presume you are going to explain your absence." "The two gentlemen who have left us, and myself, have been sent by the convention as a committee to urge his majesty to sanction their latest decrees,--the bill relating to popular rights," replied St. Hilaire quietly. "For the love of Heaven, Raphael!" burst out the count, "can it be possible that you intend to persist in championing the popular cause, like the Duke d'Orleans, or the Marquis de Lafayette? Your present position is that of a madman. Come back to our side now. To-morrow it may be too late." "For the life of me, André," replied St. Hilaire lightly, "I cannot tell you to-day what my line of action will be to-morrow, but in any case I beg you will not compare me either with the duke or Lafayette. I am neither as dull as the one nor as virtuous as the other. Why not permit me still to resemble only the Marquis de St. Hilaire?" "Then," replied the count warmly, "I tell you that as the Marquis de St. Hilaire, your duty to the king should have brought you to the reception in honor of the Flanders regiment." The marquis dropped his air of levity suddenly. "Do you know, count," he said slowly, "I have just come from the Assembly, where news reached us a little while ago that a mob of forty thousand was marching from Paris toward Versailles." The count started with surprise, but betrayed no other emotion. "Is it a fitting time to be fêting a regiment composed of mercenaries? Is it a fitting time to be clinking glasses and drinking toasts when forty thousand men and women are approaching with their cry for bread?" The count drew himself up as he replied,--"What more fitting time could there be for the loyal nobles to gather about their sovereign than in the hour of danger? I, for one, would not let the fear of any Paris mob keep me from the king's side at such a moment." St. Hilaire flushed deeply. "Count d'Arlincourt," he said quickly, "I pass over that insinuation because it comes from an old friend. But know this: that I am one of the members of the Assembly who have sworn to support the constitution and enforce the rights of man. I should indeed have been false to my trust had I participated in a fête to these foreigners where oaths were openly made to defeat that constitution." "Our ideas of duty evidently differ," replied the count stiffly. "My duty is to my king."