es, Frederic, who has been listening to you for some minutes, and who
thinks you a little venturesome in your remarks."

He whom these young men greeted as Frederic wore no mask. His costume
was what in 1824 was regarded as the height of elegance. His friends
looked at him with admiration and envy, audibly regretting that they had
appeared in mask and costume.

"Then go and take them off," said Frederic. "I will wait for you here,
or, better still, you may stop for me an hour later at the _Mille
Colonnes_."

Frederic was left alone. He was a youth of about twenty, but looked
older. Heavy brows shaded deep-set eyes, his shoulders were square, with
a slight deformity of the spine. His name was Frederic de Talizac.

Ten years had elapsed since the son of Magdalena scorned and insulted
France. We shall soon discover if the man fulfilled the promise of his
childhood.

The Vicomte left the rotunda, and putting up his eyeglasses, began to
examine the crowd in the garden.

The Palais Royal was at that time the central point of Paris, and served
as a rendezvous for everybody. Each cafe had its special customers. The
Bonapartists went to one, foreigners to another--the _Mille
Colonnes_--speculators to the _Cafe de Fois_, and so on. The _Cafe de
Valois_ was frequented by military men, the survivors of the great
Revolution, and it was also believed that it was a resort of the
Republicans. Wonder was frequently expressed that the police had not
suppressed this scandal. It was toward this cafe that the Vicomte now
took his way. Hardly had he passed the gallery than he was attracted by
a group of young men earnestly conversing together. Frederic watched
them a moment, and then went up to them. He touched one of the men on
his shoulder, saying:

"Will you grant me a few minutes' conversation, sir?"

The young man to whom this question was addressed was about twenty-five.
His regular features indicated great determination. He looked at Talizac
for a moment, and then replied, very coldly:

"I am at your service, sir."

The two men then walked into an almost deserted street.

"I first wish to know your name," said the Vicomte. "I am Frederic de
Talizac."

"As I am well aware."

"And I wish to know your name that I may know also, if I am to speak to
you as to a gentleman, or strike you as I would a lacquey."

The young man turned very pale, but with a calmness that was absolutely
terrifying under the circumstances, he rep