"Adieu, monsieur," answered the Count in a voice that came from the heart. "I do not know what the future has in store for us; mayhap we may meet again in opposite camps; but I swear to you, I shall not, henceforth, be able to look upon you as an enemy." With these words the Count of Plouernel followed the merchant's son. Monsieur Lebrenn, left alone in the chamber, contemplated the colonel's casque for a moment, and muttered to himself: "Truly, there are strange fatalities in this world." He lifted up the casque and took it into that mysterious chamber which so much excited the curiosity of Gildas. Lebrenn then joined his friends, from whom he learned that there was no longer any doubt but that the Republic would be proclaimed by the provisional government. CHAPTER XI. LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC! After the battle, after the victory, the inauguration of the triumph, and the glorification of the ashes of the victims. A few days after the overthrow of the throne of Louis Philippe, a large crowd gathered towards ten in the morning around the Madeleine Church, the facade of which was completely draped in black and silver. The front of the edifice bore the inscription: THE FRENCH REPUBLIC. LIBERTY--EQUALITY--FRATERNITY. An immense multitude crowded the boulevards, where, from the site of the Bastille clear to the square of the Madeleine, there rose two long lines of lofty funeral tripods. On that day homage was rendered to the shades of the citizens who died in February in defense of freedom. A double cordon of National Guards under the command of General Courtais, with the old republican soldier Guinard as his lieutenant, lined the road. The multitude, grave and calm, looked conscious of its new sovereignty, freshly conquered with the blood of its brothers. Presently the cannon boomed, and the patriotic hymn, the Marseillaise, was intoned. The members of the provisional government arrived. They were Citizens Dupont of L'Eure, Ledru-Rollin, Arago, Louis Blanc, Albert, Flocon, Lamartine, Cremieux, Garnier-Pages and Marast. Slowly they ascended the broad stairs of the church. Tricolor sashes fastened with a knot were the sole badges that distinguished the citizens upon whom at that juncture rested the destinies of France. Behind them, and acclaiming the Republic and popular sovereignty, came the heads of Departments, the high magistrature in red robes, the learned corps in their official dress, the marshals, the admirals and the generals in resplendent uniform. Passionate shouts of "Long live the Republic" broke out along the line of march of the dignitaries, most of whom, courtiers under so many regimes and now neophyte republicans, had grown grey in the service of the monarchy.