“An emissary from General Georges Cadoudal asks to be admitted,” said he. “Did he reply to the three passwords?” “Perfectly.” “Then let him in.” The lay brother retired to the subterranean passage, and reappeared a couple of minutes later leading a man easily recognized by his costume as a peasant, and by his square head with its shock of red hair for a Breton. He advanced in the centre of the circle without appearing in the least intimidated, fixing his eyes on each of the monks in turn, and waiting until one of these twelve granite statues should break silence. The president was the first to speak to him. “From whom do you come?” he asked him. “He who sent me,” replied the peasant, “ordered me to answer, if I were asked that question, that I was sent by Jehu.” “Are you the bearer of a verbal or written message?” “I am to reply to the questions which you ask me, and exchange a slip of paper for some money.” “Very good; we will begin with the questions. What are our brothers in the Vendée doing?” “They have laid down their arms and are awaiting only a word from you to take them up again.” “And why did they lay down their arms?” “They received the order to do so from his Majesty Louis XVIII.” “There is talk of a proclamation written by the King’s own hand. Have they received it?” “Here is a copy.” The peasant gave a paper to the person who was interrogating him. The latter opened it and read: The war has absolutely no result save that of making the monarchy odious and threatening. Monarchs who return to their own through its bloody succor are never loved; these sanguinary measures must therefore be abandoned; confide in the empire of opinion which returns of itself to its saving principles. “God and the King,” will soon be the rallying cry of all Frenchmen. The scattered elements of royalism must be gathered into one formidable sheaf; militant Vendée must be abandoned to its unhappy fate and marched within a more pacific and less erratic path. The royalists of the West have fulfilled their duty; those of Paris, who have prepared everything for the approaching Restoration, must now be relied upon-- The president raised his head, and, seeking Morgan with a flash of the eye which his hood could not entirely conceal, said: “Well, brother, I think this is the fulfilment of your wish of a few moments ago. The royalists of the Vendée and the Midi will have the merit of pure devotion.” Then, lowering his eyes to the proclamation, of which there still remained a few lines to read, he continued: The Jews crucified their King, and since that time they have wandered over the face of the earth. The French guillotined theirs, and they shall be dispersed throughout the land. Given at Blankenbourg, this 25th of August, 1799, on the day of St. Louis and the sixth year of our reign. (Signed) LOUIS. The young men looked at each other. “‘Quos vult perdere Jupiter dementat!’” said Morgan.