The bewildered Gildas stepped in quickly, closed the door, turned the key, and cuddled up quiet as a mouse close to the desk. "Well," said Madam Lebrenn, "why do you lock the door, Gildas?" "Madam, it is more prudent. I saw coming up from down below a band of men--whose frightful faces--" "Go to, Gildas, you are losing your head! Open the door." "But madam--" "Do as I tell you. Listen, there is someone trying to come in. Open the door." "It is that devil of a girl with her letter," thought Gildas to himself, more dead than alive. "Oh, why did I leave my quiet little village of Auray!" And he opened the door with his heart thumping against his ribs. Instead, however, of seeing before him the young girl with her letter, he stood face to face with Monsieur Lebrenn and his son. CHAPTER VIII. ON THE EVE OF BATTLE. Madam Lebrenn was agreeably surprised at seeing her son, whom she did not expect, thinking he was at the College. Velleda tenderly embraced her brother, while the merchant himself pressed the hand of his wife. The resolute carriage of Sacrovir Lebrenn suggested the thought that he was worthy of bearing the glorious name of the hero of ancient Gaul, one of the greatest patriots of the land recorded in history. Marik Lebrenn's son was a strapping lad of slightly over nineteen years. He had an open, kind and bold countenance. A sprouting beard shaded his lip and chin. His full cheeks were rosy, and looked bright with animation. He very much resembled his father. Madam Lebrenn embraced her son, saying: "I did not expect the pleasure, son, of seeing you here to-day." "I went to the College for him," explained the merchant. "You will presently know the reason, my dear Henory." "Without being exactly uneasy about you," said Madam Lebrenn to her husband, "Velleda and I were beginning to wonder what kept you away so long. It seems that the commotion in Paris is on the increase. Do you know they sounded the call to arms?" "Oh! Mother," cried Sacrovir with eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm, "Paris has the fever--it follows that all hearts must be beating more strongly. Without knowing one another, people look for and understand at a glance. On all the streets the words you hear are ardent, patriotic appeals to arms. In short, it smells of gunpowder. Oh, mother! mother!" added the young man with exaltation, "what a beautiful sight is the awakening of a people!" "Keep cool, enthusiast that you are!" said Madam Lebrenn. And with her handkerchief she wiped the perspiration that stood in drops on her son's forehead. In the meantime Monsieur Lebrenn embraced his daughter. "Gildas," the merchant called out to his clerk, "some chests must have been brought in during my absence." "Yes, monsieur, linen bales and looking glasses. They have been deposited in the rear room." "Very well--they can remain there. Be careful no fire comes near the bales."