"Madame," replied the lawyer, in a firm, sonorous voice, "we have lived for a year and a half in the midst of riots and tumults, and none of them have yet been able to rise to the level of revolution." "Louis-Philippe is unpopular." "Granted; but that does not mean that Henri V. is popular." "Henri V! Henri V! My son is not Henri V., monsieur; he is Henri IV. the Second." "As for that, Madame, may I be allowed to say that he is still too young to enable us to be sure of his true name and nature. The more we are devoted to our leader the more we owe him the truth." "The truth! yes, yes. I ask for it; I want it. But what is the truth?" "Madame it is this. Unfortunately, the memories of a people are lost when their horizon is narrow. The French people--I mean that material, brute force which makes convulsions and sometimes (when inspired from above) revolutions--has two great recollections that take the place of all others. One goes back forty-three years, the other seventeen years. The first is the taking of the Bastille; in other words the victory of the people over royalty,--a victory that bestowed the tricolor banner upon the nation. The second memory is the double restoration of 1814 and 1815; the victory of royalty over the masses,--a victory which imposed the white banner on the nation. Madame, in great national movements all is symbolic. The tricolor flag is liberty to the people; it bears inscribed upon its pennant the thought, 'By token of this flag we conquer.' The white flag is the banner of despotism; it bears upon its double face the sign, 'By token of this flag we are conquered.'" "Monsieur!" "You asked for the truth, Madame; let me, therefore, tell it to you." "Yes, but after you have told it you will allow me to reply." [Illustration: Portrait of Louis Philippe.] "Ah, Madame, I should be glad indeed if your reply could convince me." "Go on." "You left Paris on the 28th of July, Madame; you did not witness the fury with which the populace tore down the white flag and trampled on the fleurs-de-lis." "The flag of Denain and of Taillebourg! the fleurs-de-lis of Saint-Louis and of Louis XIV.!" "Unhappily, Madame, the populace remember only Waterloo; they know only Louis XVI.,--a defeat and an execution. Well, the great difficulty I foresee for your son, the descendant of Saint-Louis and of Louis XIV., is that very flag of Taillebourg and of Denain. If his Majesty Henri V., or Henry IV. the Second, as you so intelligently call him, returns to Paris bearing the white banner, he will not pass the faubourg Saint-Antoine; before he reaches the Bastille he is dead." "And if he enters with the tricolor,--what then?" "Worse still, Madame; he is dishonored." The duchess bounded in her bed. But at first she was silent; then, after a pause, she said:-- "Perhaps it is the truth; but it is hard." "I promised you the whole truth, and I keep my word."