"I, therefore, request you, George, to await the issue of this crisis before speaking to my daughter. Should I be killed, my wife will be apprised of my last wishes, that you marry Velleda." "Monsieur," replied George, profoundly moved, "what I feel at this moment can not be expressed. All I can say to you is--I shall approve myself worthy of your daughter--worthy of you; I am not overcome by the magnitude of the obligation that you put me under--my heart and my life will prove equal to it, I assure you, monsieur." "I believe you, my brave George," said the linendraper, affectionately pressing the young man's hands in his own. "One word more. Have you arms?" "I have a carbine hidden here, and fifty cartridges that I manufactured last night." "Should the insurrection explode this evening, a very likely occurrence, we shall barricade the street up to my house. The post is excellent. We have several stacks of arms and ample powder. I went out this morning to inspect the deposits of ammunition that it was feared the police spies had discovered. I found the rumor false. At the first commotion, return to your apartment, George. I shall communicate with you--and then, 'sdeath! Firm on the barricades! Tell me, is your grandfather discreet?" "I answer for him, as for myself, monsieur." "Is he there in the next room?" "Yes, monsieur." "Very well, grant me the favor of allowing me to impart to him news that will give him joy." Monsieur Lebrenn stepped into the room of the old man, who was still smoking his pipe "like a Pacha," as he expressed it. "Good father," said the linendraper to him, "your grandson has so good and so generous a heart that I give him my daughter, with whom he is crazily in love. All I ask of you is to keep the secret for a few days, after which you are entitled to the expectation of soon seeing yourself promoted to the dignity of great-grandfather. George will explain the whole thing to you. Adieu, my good old man. And you George--so long!" Leaving George alone with his grandfather, Lebrenn proceeded to the residence of the Count of Plouernel, the colonel of dragoons who was waiting for the linendraper, to consider the purchase of a large supply of linen. CHAPTER IV. PRADELINE. Gonthram Neroweg, Count of Plouernel, occupied a cosy little house on Paradis-Poissonniere Street, built by his own grandfather. The somewhat _rococo_ elegance of the establishment suggested it must have been constructed about the middle of the last century, and had done service as a city residence. The quarter of the Poissonnieres, or Fish-markets, as the neighborhood was called in the days of the Regency, but now almost deserted, was perfectly appropriate for those mysterious retreats that are devoted to the cult of Venus Aphrodite.