"'In the mean time, great changes were going on at Paris. The revolution had begun, and soon swept every thing before it. But it did not matter with us. We rose with the birds, and went to rest with the sun, and no two could have been happier: am I not right, Agathe?' The old lady put her hand affectionately upon the shoulder of her husband, but said nothing. 'And we have never ceased being happy: we are always happy, are we not Agathe?' The tears stood in Agathe's eyes, and Louis Herbois went on. 'Well, the revolution was nothing to me, they were mad with it, and killed the king, and slew each other, until our dear Paris became a bedlam--still, as I said, it was nothing to me. To be sure, I went occasionally to Calais, where I heard a new language in every body's mouth, and much talk of _Les hommes suspects, Mandats d'arrets_, with shouts of _Abas les aristocrates_, and _Vive la Republique_--but I did not trouble myself about any of it; Agathe and I worked together in the field, and in the garden, and in the house--always together--always happy. One morning we went out to prune our vines, the door of the house was open, just as you found it yesterday; why should we ever shut the door? we were honest, and feared nobody; we stood--Agathe here on this side holding the vine; I, with my knife, on the other side, bending over to lop a sprout from it; when down came two young people--lad and lass--upon us, as fast as they could run; out of breath--agitated--and as frightened as two wood-pigeons. The young man flew to me, and catching hold of my arm begged me, _pour l'amour de Dieu_, to secrete his wife somewhere--anywhere--out of the reach of the _gens-d'armes_, who were pursuing them. I felt in ill-humor, for I had cut my finger just then; besides, I did not relish the mention of the _gens-d'armes_, so I replied plainly, that I would have nothing to do with persons who were _suspects_. Why should I thrust my own neck into the trap? they had better go about their business, and not trouble poor people. Bah! such a speech was not like Louis Herbois! but out it came, Heaven knows how, and no sooner had I finished than up runs the young creature, and seizing my moustache she cries, "My brave fellow, hie away, and crop off all this; none but _men_ have a right to it; God grant you were not born in France; no Frenchman could give such an answer to a man imploring protection for his wife. Look at my husband--did he ask aid for himself? Do you think he would turn you off in this way, had you sought his assistance to save _her_?" pointing to Agathe, who stood trembling all the while like an aspen. "Ah! you have made a mistake, I see you repent, be quick; what will you do with us?" And she held me tight by the moustache until I should answer, while the husband stared upon me in a sort of breathless agony. I took another look at the little creature, while she kept fast hold of me, and saw that she was----_eh bien_! I see