The gazettes were full of the new constitution, which they called the "Additional Act," and the act of the "Champ de Mai." Mr. Goulden always had something to say, sometimes about one article and sometimes another, but I mixed no more in these affairs, and repented of having complained of the processions and expiations; I had had enough of politics. This lasted till the 23d of May. That morning about ten o'clock I was in the great hall of the arsenal, filling the boxes with guns. The great door was wide open, and the men were waiting with their wagons before the bullet park, to load up the boxes. I had nailed the last one, when Robert, the guard, touched me on the shoulder and said in my ear: "Bertha, the Commandant Montravel wishes to see you. He is in the pavilion." "What does he want of me?" "I do not know." I was afraid directly, but I went at once. I crossed the grand court, near the sheds for the gun-carriages, mounted the stairs, and knocked softly at the door. "Come in," said the commandant. I opened the door all in a tremble, and stood with my cap in my hand. Mr. Montravel was a tall, brown, thin man, with a little stoop in his shoulders. He was walking hastily up and down his room, in the midst of his books and maps, and arms hung on the wall. "Ah! Bertha, it is you, is it? I have disagreeable news to tell you, the third battalion to which you belong leaves for Metz." On hearing this my heart sank, and I could not say a word. He looked at me, and after a moment he added: "Do not be troubled, you have been married for several months, and you are a good workman, and that deserves consideration. You will give this letter to Colonel Desmichels at the arsenal at Metz; he is one of my friends, and will find employment in some of his workshops for you, you may be certain." I took the letter which he handed me, thanked him, and went home filled with alarm. Zebede, Mr. Goulden, and Catherine were talking together in the shop, distress was written on every face. They knew everything. "The third battalion is going," I said as I entered, "but Mr. Montravel has just given me a letter to the director of the arsenal at Metz. Do not be anxious, I shall not make the campaign." I was almost choking. Mr. Goulden took the letter and said, "It is open; we can read it." Then he read the letter, in which Mr. Montravel recommended me to his friend, saying that I was married, a good workman, industrious, and that I could render real service at the arsenal. He could have said nothing better. "Now the matter is certain," said Zebede. "Yes, you will be retained in the arsenal at Metz," said Father Goulden. Catherine was very pale, she kissed me and said, "What happiness, Joseph!"