Bercy, it had no importance.

He had but one passion now, and it burned clear and strong, it
dominated, it possessed him. He would have given up any worldly honour
to see it succeed. He had idled and misspent too many years, been
vaurien and ne'er-do-well too long to be sordid now. Even as the
grievous sinner, come from dark ways, turns with furious and tireless
strength to piety and good works, so this vagabond of noble family,
wheeling suddenly in his tracks, had thrown himself into a cause which
was all sacrifice, courage, and unselfish patriotism--a holy warfare.
The last bitter thrust of the Duke had touched no raw flesh, his withers
were unwrung. Gifted to thrust in return, and with warrant to do so,
he put aside the temptation, and answered his kinsman with daylight
clearness.

"Monsieur le duc," said he, "I am glad your health is good--it better
suits the purpose of this interview. I am come on business, and on that
alone. I am from Saumur, where I left de la Rochejaquelein, Stofflet,
Cathelineau, and Lescure masters of the city and victors over Coustard's
army. We have taken eleven thousand prisoners, and--"

"I have heard a rumour--" interjected the Duke impatiently.

"I will give you fact," continued Detricand, and he told of the series
of successes lately come to the army of the Vendee. It was the heyday of
the cause.

"And how does all this concern me?" asked the Duke.

"I am come to beg you to join us, to declare for our cause, for the
Church and for the King. Yours is of the noblest names in France. Will
you not stand openly for what you cannot waver from in your heart? If
the Duc de Bercy declares for us, others will come out of exile, and
from submission to the rebel government, to our aid. My mission is to
beg you to put aside whatever reasons you may have had for alliance with
this savage government, and proclaim for the King."

The Duke never took his eyes from Detricand's.

What was going on behind that parchment face, who might say?

"Are you aware," he answered Detricand at last, "that I could send you
straight from here to the guillotine?"

"So could the porter at your gates, but he loves France almost as well
as does the Duc de Bercy."

"You take refuge in the fact that you are my kinsman," returned the Duke
acidly.

"The honour is stimulating, but I should not seek salvation by it. I
have the greater safety of being your guest," answered Detricand with
dignity.

"Too premature