“An abundance of it, and elsewhere too. Can you wonder? These delays at such a time, with famine in the land? Chateaux have been going up in smoke during the last fortnight. The peasants took their cue from the Parisians, and treated every castle as a Bastille. Order is being restored, there as here, and they are quieter now.” “What of Gavrillac? Do you know?” “I believe all to be well. M. de Kercadiou was not a Marquis de La Tour d’Azyr. He was in sympathy with his people. It is not likely that they would injure Gavrillac. But don’t you correspond with your godfather?” “In the circumstances--no. What you tell me would make it now more difficult than ever, for he must account me one of those who helped to light the torch that has set fire to so much belonging to his class. Ascertain for me that all is well, and let me know.” “I will, at once.” At parting, when Andre-Louis was on the point of stepping into his cabriolet to return to Paris, he sought information on another matter. “Do you happen to know if M. de La Tour d’Azyr has married?” he asked. “I don’t; which really means that he hasn’t. One would have heard of it in the case of that exalted Privileged.” “To be sure.” Andre-Louis spoke indifferently. “Au revoir, Isaac! You’ll come and see me--13 Rue du Hasard. Come soon.” “As soon and as often as my duties will allow. They keep me chained here at present.” “Poor slave of duty with your gospel of liberty!” “True! And because of that I will come. I have a duty to Brittany: to make Omnes Omnibus one of her representatives in the National Assembly.” “That is a duty you will oblige me by neglecting,” laughed Andre-Louis, and drove away. CHAPTER IV. AT MEUDON Later in the week he received a visit from Le Chapelier just before noon. “I have news for you, Andre. Your godfather is at Meudon. He arrived there two days ago. Had you heard?” “But no. How should I hear? Why is he at Meudon?” He was conscious of a faint excitement, which he could hardly have explained. “I don’t know. There have been fresh disturbances in Brittany. It may be due to that.” “And so he has come for shelter to his brother?” asked Andre-Louis. “To his brother’s house, yes; but not to his brother. Where do you live at all, Andre? Do you never hear any of the news? Etienne de Gavrillac emigrated years ago. He was of the household of M. d’Artois, and he crossed the frontier with him. By now, no doubt, he is in Germany with him, conspiring against France. For that is what the emigres are doing. That Austrian woman at the Tuileries will end by destroying the monarchy.” “Yes, yes,” said Andre-Louis impatiently. Politics interested him not at all this morning. “But about Gavrillac?”