“Why, yes; I have a brother! Why shouldn’t I have brother?” “How old is he?” “Eleven or twelve.” “Why did you never tell me about him?” “Because I thought the sayings and doings of a youngster of that age could not interest you.” “You are mistaken, Roland; I am interested in all that concerns my friends. You ought to have asked me for something for your brother.” “Asked what, general?” “His admission into some college in Paris.” “Pooh! You have enough beggars around you without my swelling their number.” “You hear; he is to come to Paris and enter college. When he is old enough, I will send him to the Ecole Militare, or some other school which I shall have founded before then.” “Faith, general,” said Roland, “just as if I had guessed your good intentions, he is this very day on the point of, starting for Paris.” “What for?” “I wrote to my mother three days ago to bring the boy to Paris. I intended to put him in college without mentioning it, and when he was old enough to tell you about him--always supposing that my aneurism had not carried me off in the meantime. But in that case--” “In that case?” “Oh! in that case I have left a bit of a will addressed to you, and recommending to your kindness my mother, and the boy and the girl--in short, the whole raft.” “The girl! Who is she?” “My sister.” “So you have a sister also?” “Yes.” “How old is she?” “Seventeen.” “Pretty?” “Charming.” “I’ll take charge of her establishment.” Roland began to laugh. “What’s the matter?” demanded the First Consul. “General, I’m going to put a placard over the grand entrance to the Luxembourg.” “What will you put on the placard?” “‘Marriages made here.’” “Why not? Is it any reason because you don’t wish to marry for your sister to remain an old maid? I don’t like old maids any better than I do old bachelors.” “I did not say, general, that my sister should remain an old maid; it’s quite enough for one member of the Montrevel family to have incurred your displeasure.” “Then what do you mean?” “Only that, as the matter concerns my sister, she must, if you will allow it, be consulted.” “Ah, ha! Some provincial love-affair, is there?” “I can’t say. I left poor Amélie gay and happy, and I find her pale and sad. I shall get the truth out of her; and if you wish me to speak to you again about the matter, I will do so.” “Yes, do so--when you get back from the Vendée.” “Ah! So I am going to the Vendée?” “Why, is that, like marriage, repugnant, to you?” “Not in the least.” “Then you are going to the Vendée.” “When?” “Oh, you need not hurry, providing you start to-morrow.” “Excellent; sooner if you wish. Tell me what I am to do there.” “Something of the utmost importance, Roland.” “The devil! It isn’t a diplomatic mission, I presume?” “Yes; it is a diplomatic mission for which I need a man who is not a diplomatist.”