"It is this: The present moment would be ill-chosen to attempt to stay the Revolution. Just now it is proving its strength by beheading five hundred persons a day at Nantes, Toulon, Lyons and Paris. We must wait until lassitude ensues." "And then?" "And then," continued Pichegru, gravely, "as it would be deplorable if France wearied of action, should be exhausted by reaction, and as I have no more confidence in the tolerance of the Bourbons than in that of the people, on the day when I take the first step toward bringing back one or the other member of that family, I shall have in my pocket a charter like that of England, or a constitution like that of America, which shall guarantee the rights of the people, and define the duties of the sovereign; this will be an essential condition. I should like to be a Monk, but a Monk of the eighteenth century, a Monk of '93, preparing for the presidency of a Washington, and not for the royalty of Charles II." "Monk made his own conditions, general," said Fauche-Borel. "I should be content to make conditions for France." "Well, general, his Highness has forestalled you, and here is a paper which will, I am sure, far exceed anything that you could impose for the welfare of France." Pichegru, who, like most Francs-Comtois, was a smoker, had filled his pipe toward the close of these remarks, and this important operation was just concluded when Fauche-Borel handed him the prince's paper. "But," said Pichegru, laughing, "I thought that I had made you understand that, if I accepted at all, it would not be for two or three years." "Very well; but that does not prevent you from considering the contents of this paper," replied Fauche-Borel. "Very well," replied Pichegru, "when that time comes we will consider it." And without seeking to know what was in the paper, without even unfolding it, he put it in the stove, and lighted his pipe with it, letting it burn until it was entirely consumed. Fauche-Borel, thinking at first that the act resulted from absent-mindedness, made a movement to catch his arm, then, seeing that it was intentional, he drew back and let the paper burn. Just then the gallop of a horse entering the courtyard made both men turn their heads. It was Macdonald who had returned, and his reeking horse showed that he had an important communication to make. Pichegru, who had bolted the door, hastened to unfasten it; for he did not wish to be found closeted with the supposed clerk, whose real name and mission might be discovered later. The door opened almost immediately, and Macdonald appeared upon the threshold. His cheeks, which were naturally ruddy, had taken a deeper hue, for they had been exposed to the north wind and a fine rain. "General," said he, "the advance guard of the Army of the Moselle is at Pfaffenheim; the entire army is following, and I have preceded General Hoche and his staff by a few minutes only."