At about ten o'clock the next day, the Duke d'Harcourt, was at the breakfast table with all his family. The eyes of the old man were suddenly struck with the following passage in the _Journal des Debats_, which he was glancing over. He read it aloud:-- "The terrible secret association, on the track of which the police has very long been, has been discovered--even its name is known--the whimsical one of 'Carbonarism!' We are assured that every rank of life has representatives in this vast affiliation. Even young men of the most noble families of France have been found on its rolls, and they have been already pointed out to the attention of the government." The Viscount d'Harcourt grew visibly pale as he heard his father read, and Marie called the Duke's attention to the fact. She hurried to his side. "It is nothing," said he, "but a sudden spasm of pain. It will soon pass away, and in a few minutes I shall be better." The Duke d'Harcourt had finished his paper, and looked sternly on his son. His glance was like that of the judge on the criminal, a mute appeal to conscience, which the young man could not be insensible of. "René," said the Duke, in his most penetrating tone, "if I did not know that you have overcome the influence of those political chimeras which produced your expulsion from Italy, the agitation caused by what you have heard read would make me think the cause of those conspirators your own." The Count's trouble increased. The old noble continued to speak in this tone, extolling, also, the advantages of a monarchical government, and pointing out the evils likely to result from the possible realization of the plans of the Carbonari. He, however, heard the sounds of many feet in the anteroom of the saloon, where he sat with his children. The secretary of the Duke, the brave D'Arbel, an old officer of the army of Condé, who had emigrated with the Duke, and never left him, appeared at the door. His features expressed the greatest agitation. He said:-- "The Duke does not know what is going on." "What _is_ the matter, my dear D'Arbel?" said the Duke, taking a seat in the chair the old man handed to him. "The door of our hotel has been broken open in the King's name, and is now in possession of the police. The chief has placed all the household under surveillance and is about to come hither." "What means this?" said the Duke. "Why is my house thus invaded?" "Ah, my God!" said Marie, trembling, "what do these people want?" "What do they want?" said the Vicomte, completely beside himself. "They want vengeance on me." "To arrest you! For heaven's sake, sir, tell me what you have been doing." "What you censured so violently just now. Father, I have sought to overturn a government of which my opinions do not approve. I am now to experience the penalty of having failed. In such matters success makes great men, and failure criminals." "Criminal or not, they shall not take away my son. I will defend him."