t his
presence in the country was known to them.

"I tell you," the Marquis explained, "that he has his hands full--that
man in Paris. It is only a month since he changed his ministry. Who
is this St. Arnaud, his Minister of War? Who is Maupas, his Prefect of
Police? Does Monsieur Maupas know that we are nearly ready for our coup?
Bah! Tell me nothing of that sort, gentlemen."

And this was the universally accepted opinion at this time, of Louis
Bonaparte the President of a tottering Republic, divided against itself;
a dull man, at his wits' end. For months, all Europe had been turning
an inquiring and watchful eye on France. Socialism was rampant. Secret
societies honeycombed the community. There was some danger in the
air--men knew not what. Catastrophe was imminent, and none knew where to
look for its approach. But all thought that it must come at the end of
the year. A sort of panic took hold of all classes. They dreaded the end
of 1851.

The Marquis de Gemosac spoke openly of these things before Juliette. She
had been present when Loo and he talked together of this last journey,
so happily accomplished, so fruitful of result. And Loo did not tell the
Marquis that he had seen his old ship, "The Last Hope," in the river at
Bordeaux, and had gone on board of her.

Juliette listened, as she worked, beneath the lamp at the table in
the middle of the room. The lace-work she had brought from the
convent-school was not finished yet. It was exquisitely fine and
delicate, and Juliette executed the most difficult patterns with a sort
of careless ease. Sometimes, when the Marquis was more than usually
extravagant in his anticipations of success, or showed a superlative
contempt for his foes, Juliette glanced at Barebone over her lace-work,
but she rarely took part in the talk when politics were under
discussion.

In domestic matters, however, this new chatelaine showed considerable
shrewdness. She was not ignorant of the price of hay, and knew to a cask
how much wine was stored in the vault beneath the old chapel. On these
subjects the Marquis good-humouredly followed her advice sometimes. His
word had always been law in the whole neighbourhood. Was he not the head
of one of the oldest families in France?

"But, pardieu, she shows a wisdom quite phenomenal, that little one,"
the Marquis would tell his friends, with a hearty laugh. It was only
natural that he should consider amusing the idea of uniting wisdom and
youth