"Struck with the excellent education of Monsieur John Lebrenn, father offered him the freedom of our library, and made him promise to come and visit us on his holidays. Father therefore considered Monsieur John Lebrenn worthy of admission to our friendship. That is how I must interpret father's actions." "Your father evinced, perhaps, too much good will towards the young fellow, and my brother has taken my husband to task for authorizing too intimate relations between us and a simple workman. Each should keep his place." "Uncle Hubert," answered Charlotte, "always showed himself hostile towards Monsieur Lebrenn, and even jealous of him." "Your uncle Hubert is a banker of wealth, and could have entertained for the protege of my husband neither jealousy nor animosity." "Nevertheless, father's 'protege' has been able to be of value to him, for I have often heard father say to Monsieur John that it was to him and his efforts that he owed his election as deputy for Paris." "It is a matter of common kindness for my husband to thank this young workman for some services he was able to perform in the interest of his election." "Allow me, dear mother, to tell you that father does not look at things as you do; for last Sunday he invited Monsieur John to dinner with us, calling him _my friend_. Father repeated to him several times that, thanks to the progress of the revolution, privileges of birth would be soon wiped out, and that equality and fraternity would reign among men." "Well, Charlotte! And suppose equality were to reign among men--what conclusion do you draw from that?" "Monsieur John Lebrenn being the equal of my father, bonds of friendship could exist between them." "I shall admit, for the moment, that an ironsmith's apprentice might think himself the equal of an attorney at the bar of Paris. What do you conclude therefrom?" "I hoped you would have understood," stammered the young girl in confusion, and more embarrassed than ever at seeing her mother so far from suspecting the nature of the confidence she was about to make. Suddenly a dull and heavy roar, prolonged and repeated from echo to echo, shook and rattled the windows of the room. "What noise is that!" cried Madam Desmarais with a start, and raising her head. Crash upon crash, more distinct than the first, rattled again the windows and even the doors of the dwelling. At that instant in rushed one of Madam Desmarais's maids, screaming out with affright: "Madam, Oh, madam! It is the cannon! It is the roar of artillery!" "Great God!" exclaimed Madam Desmarais, turning pale. "And my husband! To what dangers will he be exposed!" "Do not worry, dear mother. Father is at Versailles," spoke out Charlotte, now the comforter. "They are attacking Paris. The counter-attack will lead on to Versailles. There will be uprisings, insurrections, massacres!"